


The Unknown Destiny

by CSP2708, Dylan_Walts



Series: The Unknown Trilogy [3]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Destiny, Final Battle, Gen, Guardian - Freeform, Resurrection, The Great One, The Hunt, Twelve Gods of Olympus (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:53:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 32,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27215995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CSP2708/pseuds/CSP2708, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dylan_Walts/pseuds/Dylan_Walts
Summary: After the civil war between the gods, a new enemy - the true enemy - arises. He has been in the shadows, planning every step, and now, he strikes. A story of lies, betrayal, and true inner strength awaits Perseus and his charge as they uncover the true puppetmaster.
Relationships: Artemis & Percy Jackson, The Hunters of Artemis & Percy Jackson
Series: The Unknown Trilogy [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1930519
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	1. The Uphill Battle

**Author's Note:**

> This is the final work of the trilogy. Thank you for sticking with us this long and we hope you enjoy the story!
> 
> Trigger warning for body horror and gore in this and subsequent chapters.

***First Person Point of View ~ Artemis***

I was frozen. My body was stiff and my heart was hammering away behind my ribs like a caged bird. I couldn’t get the image out of my head. 

The gut-wrenching, heart-stopping vision of his mangled body. His shredded left leg, nothing but flesh and blood and bone splinters. His arm was bent back so far from his elbow that it had nearly been torn from his body. The crumpled black leather that stretched over his bones, barely able to be called skin, torn up by the intense heat from which he suffered.

The air was horrid, poisoned by the overwhelming stench of blood. Percy’s blood. 

Over and over again I saw the light leaving Percy's eyes. Those once beautiful eyes that had looked at me with such affection - affection that I had stamped down, unable to face the veracity that was in my heart. I saw his dull green orbs staring up at me with such love and I couldn’t hold back my tears. For the first time in over three thousand years, I cried for a man.

I was sobbing. I knew it. I wasn’t even embarrassed that I was sobbing over the death of a man in front of my family. I didn’t care if they figured out how I really felt about my guardian. They all knew what had happened to my last guardian. They all knew how I felt at that time.

I laid my head down on his chest. It was bloody and dusty and sticky with sweat, but I didn’t care. I was the same. The battle had brought us to this state. Pretty soon, what remained of his shirt would also be stained with my tears.

My breath came in gasps, chest contracting so tightly that it hurt, but nothing could compare to the agony in my heart. I was suffering. My heart was breaking. All because of a man and his heart. His pure heart was no longer beating.

Wait.

My eyes snapped open.

What was that?

I heard it.

I pressed my ear to his chest once again, my tears dry if only due to the shock of the sound that I just heard.

There it was again. A heartbeat. He was alive!

Was he alive? Was it my own imagination?

I pressed my head down again.

No. It was there. I heard it. I hear it now!

“Apollo!” I called out to my brother. 

He was at my side in an instant. Kneeling next to me, he sent me a look of concern, curiosity also flashed in his eyes. I replied with a look of my own, one that conveyed to him the situation. Understanding, he gingerly pressed two fingers against Percy’s neck. I waited as the doctor checked. I waited and waited. It felt like an eternity. What was taking so long?

Then, Apollo nodded. 

My heart nearly leaped from beneath my ribs.

He was alive. I knew it. His heartbeat was there. Barely, but it was there!

“You must bring him to the infirmary! You must treat him!”

Apollo’s expression was grim as I turned to him; I was upset that he hadn’t moved. “He’s hanging on, but just by a hair. Are you sure? There is a great chance that he won’t make it,” he said.

“But there is a chance that he will!” I replied, desperately holding onto my hope. My hands gripped Percy’s hand - the good one - which was limp but still warm.

He gave me a look. One that was hard to decode, but I managed to pick out a few emotions. There was concern, that was the main one. There was confusion - no! Why is that? And pity. There was pity? It was that moment that I knew that he’d figured it out. Figured  _ me _ out. 

He had been the first to learn of how I felt about my old guardian. He knew me better than anyone, even better than my own hunters. He always knew, and he always pitied me when the people that I cared about took their last breaths.

“I will try my best, but-” he said.

Before he was even finished, I tackled him in a hug, my face pressed against his shoulder. “Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I chanted into his shirt.

“-don’t get your hopes up, Artemis. There is still a chance that he’s going to die. It’s most likely that he’s going to die.”

“I don’t care. I know that you’ll be able to make him better. I trust you, Apollo.”

As I released him from my hold, I swore that I saw my brother’s heartbreak. If only a little bit. He worried about me. He worried that he wouldn’t make it in time. That he wouldn’t be good enough to save my love. Like last time.

Oh, gods. He still regretted last time.

Ignoring my sudden concern, Apollo picked up Percy’s body. “Let’s go,” he said quietly to Percy’s body, carefully adjusting my guardian so that the least amount of blood possible was escaping his cold, dying body. “We cannot teleport there; his body won’t be able to handle it, so where is the nearest safe house?”

I pointed towards the Empire State building. In that direction, there was a warehouse with steel walls, one that was surprisingly undamaged from the fight. We were about to make our way there when a voice stopped us. I groaned.

“Hey! Wait a minute!”

It was my father. I turned to him, levelling him with my glare. He was stopping Percy from receiving his treatment as soon as possible.

“Apollo, go. It’s a large steel warehouse; it says  _ MARI.CO _ on the side. You’ll find everything you need there. I’ll deal with this. Just… take care of him.”

My twin nodded and began walking away, his pace quick yet smooth.

Gathering all of my courage, I turned to face my father once more. “What is it, father? Would you like to start our meaningless battle? How many more people would you like to hurt? To kill?” My voice was cold, easily reflecting how I felt towards the man whom I had once looked up to. Unfortunately for him, my respect for him died a long time ago. 

He would never regain it. Try as he might, I would never trust him, nor respect him, for the rest of my immortal days.

“Daughter, you expect us to stop fighting? My weapon is gone! Stolen! And I will find out which of these scoundrels took it!” father bellowed in outrage.

His comment caused an outburst among the gods, and they began to prepare for battle once more, stopped only by me as I shouted, “Silence!”

They stopped, turning back to me once more. Their bodies were tense, still fuelled by the anticipation of the fight, but I could see the adrenaline slowly draining.

“Your sacred bow and arrows are missing, too. How could you possibly not want to find the culprit?” Ares demanded.

“Because at least I have a brain and I’m smart enough to figure out that someone is setting us up! This already happened once before, years ago when a demigod thief stole father’s master bolt in service of the Titan king, Kronos. You really think that one of us gods went to all the trouble of stealing every other god's weapon to start a war that would destroy us all?” I demanded in return.

Finally, my words were making them see reason. Their anger began to fade, confusion set in as they tried to recall the time before. Life was so long for immortals, it was sometimes hard to recall moments that seemed to flash by in an instant. We have so many memories to rifle through the most important lessons often become buried in the sorrow and vexation of war.

The gods paused, looking at one another. They no longer had distrust in their eyes, only confusion. Athena, however, was thinking harder. I could see the gears turning in her head. I smiled. She was figuring it out.

“There is another enemy, one who has been manipulating us from the start. An enemy who corrupted Télionix. An enemy who stole our weapons. An enemy that is coming for the world and we are the only ones who can stop them, but if we keep fighting, we’re doomed,” I told them.

“Then who has stolen our items? And where has he put them?” Aphrodite asked.

“If I were to hazard a guess, I’d say that our items are hidden in places where we have no power. Beyond our senses. With that many powerful items missing, obviously, they’d have to be somewhere where we couldn’t feel the power radiating off of them.”

“So, Greenland, Iceland, and Alaska?” Hermes asked, interrupting my train of thought.

I nodded, mentally rolling my eyes.  _ Obviously _ . Instead, I smiled at my dim-witted half-brother. “Precisely.”

“So what do we do?” Dionysus asked.

“Our mysterious adversary seems to want us to destroy ourselves, or at least to split us up. It’s a strategy called 'divide and conquer' for a reason, and we need to come up with a way to counteract that.”

“Why don’t we just divide and conquer back at him?” Ares grumbled, his voice as gruff and angry as usual.

I paused thinking for a moment, and Athena took those few seconds to speak. “It would work. If we go out in groups of two or three, maybe take a few demigods as well, we’ll be able to find our items of power and have more of an advantage. It’s far better than just waiting here for the attack to begin because even if we aren’t destroying each other, we’re still not at our strongest without our weapons of choice.”

I nodded in agreement. “Athena is correct, as usual.” I sent her a proud smile, happy that at least one of my siblings wasn’t a total doofus. “Get into teams and search the areas where we have powers. We’ll also have to send out groups of demigods to search the lands that we cannot. The search parties will have to check back in every few hours.”

“Alright,” Zeus said. He turned to Aikaterine, his guardian. “You will lead a party of two guardians and two campers. Choose a partner to go with you to a safe house and then begin the search.”

At first, the female in question just stared blankly at her charge, not long enough for everyone to notice, but long enough for me to be concerned. What was going on? Had she not understood? I almost stepped forwards to explain my father’s demands more clearly, but before I could, Aikaterine nodded. The far-off look in her eyes vanished, so I wasn’t even sure it had been there at all. Maybe my eyes were just playing tricks on me.

“Of course, my lord,” she said. She took a step towards Dareios, the guardian of Demeter. Her movement seemed almost… jerky. Like her joints were stiff with wax or had become undercooked noodles.

Was she okay?

I didn’t have time to ask because just then, she and Dareios ran off, halfway across the park in seconds.

As I wondered what could’ve possibly been wrong, the gods sent their guardians off in groups of their own, and then disappeared one by one, until it was just me and Hermes left.

“Well,” he said, “I guess we’re partners.”

I looked up at him.

“I guess we are,” I said. “Let’s go.”


	2. The Puzzle Pieces Begin to Fall into Place

***First Person Point of View ~ Iago***

In the depths of space and time, where all matter originated and will eventually return, a single figure sat, brooding in his throne as he stared into the endless abyss before him. 

He was hunched over, his shoulders angled forward with age - despite the lack of wrinkles on his face. His hair was overgrown and unwashed, hanging in scraggly knots around his face. Obviously, he hadn’t had company for many years, and he wasn’t planning to either.

A single rip stood out against the swirling, chaotic ambiance - a scrying bowl of sorts - for the man to see all he wanted to see. His eyes gazed into it greedily, searching.

The man let out a low hum as he studied the images flashing across the rift in space. Then he let a childish giggle - a sound that one wouldn’t think could possibly come out of the same mouth as the voice that came after it. 

“Everything is going according to plan,” he said, speaking as if someone else was there, listening. “Those pesky gods will soon get what’s coming to them. They’ve become so reliant on the guardians so soon, that they will become hopeless without them.”

His eyes glinted evilly as he spoke, sparkling as they reflected light that didn’t exist. His voice, unlike his giggle, was deep and dark; it was the complete opposite of anything good or just. 

“Now, my puppets.” His voice dropped to a whisper. As he spoke, his lips barely flapped, moving as subtle as possible, as if he was afraid that someone would see him and think he was up to no good. “Commence Phase Three.”

* * *

Hermes, like all the gods, was out searching. He was in the wilderness of Greece, all alone and looking for any sign of any sacred weapons. So far, he’d found nothing, and he was beginning to lose any hope that the items would be found.

Just as he was about to head back to inform the Olympians that his search had wrought no benefits, an arrow whizzed past him. He turned, just in time to see a laistrygonian giant - frozen - behind him, with a look of shock on its face. It had gotten close, sneaking up on him so easily that its club was near enough to be swung and take off his head.

Seconds later, the laistrygonian was dust. Its club clattered as it fell to the ground, clanging against roots and branches adjacent to it.

Hermes spun around, back to where his guardian - Galene - was standing nearby, bow still out. Her fingers clutched the string tightly, even though she’d already released her arrow. Her knuckles were gleaming, white and shiny, giving away just how much effort she put into her grip on both the wood and sinew.

The messenger god carefully approached her, his steps hesitant. “Galene, are you alright?” Hermes asked his guardian. 

She was, of course, a daughter of Hades - obvious by her dark eyes and hair - but her mother was a descendant of Apollo, so she grew up with a bright and bubbly personality that stayed with her throughout her life as well as guardian training. Now, however, that cheerfulness was gone, and that had the Olympian worried.

Galene was trembling slightly, her whole body stood rigid until she finally - jerkily - shook her head. Then, changing her mind, she nodded instead, her hair bobbing around her head like the hood of a jellyfish - though only if the jellyfish was high on sugar. “I’m okay. Just…a little off. Sorry.”

“Let’s go back before any more monsters show up,” Hermes suggested, his voice was gentle as he spoke to his guardian. He  _ had _ noticed that she was reacting slower than usual recently. Were the others that way, too, or was it just her? When they returned to the other gods, he would have to ask around. That was the only way he’d be able to put his mind at rest.

* * *

Stepping foot on Olympus once more was the easy part. Getting past all the debris to get to the throne room to meet the rest of the gods wasn’t.

As he was unable to teleport back to Olympus due to damage in its protective shields, Hermes had to lead himself and Galene back up through the elevator - which once again had awful music playing, though it was glitching every now and then - making it even more horrendous.

Keeping a careful hold on his guardian’s shoulders, Hermes took each step across the crumbling golden walkway of Olympus as if it would be his last. He recalled one time crossing a frozen lake - which he’d seen humans do before - and had felt the same mild fear of a surprise as cracks appeared beneath his feet.

“Ah, Hermes,” Zeus greeted as the god of speed-walked through the tilted doors at the entrance to the main palace, “Did you have any luck?”

The messenger god shook his head. “No. I assume no one else did, either.”

Zeus frowned, looking down for a few seconds before returning his gaze to Hermes. Then, his eyes shifted towards Galene. “What is the matter with your guardian? She seems a bit out of it.”

Hermes turned back to look at the daughter of Hades. She was standing slightly behind him, a vacant look on her face - which was not typical because guardians were always supposed to be vigilant so that they could protect their charges.

“I don’t know. I almost got brained earlier by a monster. She just barely killed it. I’ve noticed that she’s been reacting slower than usual lately, but until now, I hadn’t thought much about it.”

Zeus’ frown deepened. “Now that I think of it, Aikaterine has been a little distant lately as well. When we were out searching, she stumbled over almost everything. I had to catch her a few times so that she wouldn’t fall face-first to the ground.”

Both gods froze, realization dawning on them.

“Do you think that it’s happening with all the guardians?” Hermes asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe. We’ll have to ask around. Obviously, Perseus is out, but the others… I surely hope that nothing is wrong with the guardians.”

As the two gods finished their conversation, though their worries only just beginning, the last Olympian to return - Aphrodite - walked in.

“No luck, I take it?” Athena asked the love goddess as she collapsed into her throne, sighing.

Aphrodite just sighed again, eyes downcast. “I can’t find my make-up kit! Those shells were handcrafted especially for me!” she sobbed. “Oh, and I didn’t find anyone else’s stupid items, either,” she added as an afterthought.

Suddenly, a bright glow filled the room. It originated from the main hearth, then resonated throughout the room, lighting up even the darkest corners of the cracked marble. Even the gods were forced to avert their eyes. When the glow finally dimmed, the sight before them was a terrible shock.

Dionysus fell out of his chair.

It was their weapons, all stacked in the center of the room, not a scratch on them. It was as if they’d never been taken in the first place.

“Hephaestus!” Zeus called. “Check them for enchantments or if they’re fake. We must know for sure. Nothing is adding up and I want to get to the bottom of this!”

Immediately, the crafter leapt from his seat, hobbling as fast as he could towards the items, still neatly piled by Hestia’s hearth. He ran his stubby fingers over the items, first checking his hammer, and then the others. When he was finished, he turned back to the Olympians, who all leaned in with bated breath to hear of his findings.

Nothing was irregular. 

Nothing was out of place.

Everything was exactly as it should be.

Relieved, the gods quickly filed forward to gather their sacred item, returning it to its rightful owner. They sat back on their thrones, quite happy that their items had been recovered. They didn’t even care how.

Unfortunately, they were all too content that they didn’t notice Lysandra standing in the darkness of a leaning pillar. She watched the happenings from the shadows, glad that her charge had reunited with his favourite lyre, but happy for the darkness to soothe her throbbing skull. All this running around - especially after fighting in a big civil war between the gods was giving her a killer headache.

Just as she leaned back to rest on the marble, she fell, not expecting to meet nothing but solid air. She jerked, turning quickly as her eyes widened in shock, only for hands to wrap around her. Hundreds of pitch-black fingers - like ghost hands - wrapped around her, pulling her into the darkness.

Seconds later, she was gone, no trace to be found.


	3. Gonna Need Sherlock Holmes for This One

***First Person Point of View ~ Apollo***

Where was she? Where could Lysandra possibly have gone and why wasn’t she back yet?

I wondered this to myself as I walked around Olympus, my eyes keeping a sharp watch out for the wayward guardian.

I approached Aphrodite, who was sitting by the broken fountain, her own guardian tending to her sore feet. “Aphrodite?” I asked, catching her attention.

“Yes, dear?” she acknowledged.

“Have either of you seen my guardian? Lysandra?”

Aphrodite furrowed her eyebrows, thinking.

“Blonde hair, grey eyes? Like most children of Athena, but better?” I asked, describing her. Of course, she was better than any other woman I’d ever seen. She was so beautiful. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem as if my charm has worked. She’s never been interested in me that way.

When Aphrodite shook her head, I sighed. “Don’t worry, Apollo,” she said, reaching over to pat my arm, “She’ll turn up. Then you can be lovey-dovey around her again.”

With that, I left. Never before had I felt embarrassed about trying to woo a lady, but the way Aphrodite talked about Lysandra… Something about it made my face reddened until I was a walking tomato.

“Hey, man,” I called out as I saw Hermes. “You seen Lysandra around? She seems to be hiding somewhere. I can’t find her.”

Hermes turned away from Zeus, whom he’d been deep in a conversation with. Hmm. Must’ve been important, because Hermes looked startled by my voice behind him.

“Um… no. Sorry,” Hermes replied. He then tilted his head, as if mulling over my question once more. “Yeah,” he finally decided, “No, I haven’t seen her.”

I turned to my father. Normally, I wouldn’t have asked him such an important question - what with the decision he made in the past, but was feeling pretty desperate.

“What about you, father? Have you seen my guardian?”

He shook his head. “No, I haven’t. I’m terribly sorry, son, but I’m sure that when you need her most, she’ll be there.” at that comment, he met eyes with Hermes, and they seemed to share a thought.

I thought nothing of it. “Okay,” I said, my mood sinking. “Thanks.”

Leaving the two of them to talk, I went over to a group of nymphs, hoping that they had seen something.

***Third Person Point of View***

After Apollo left, Hermes and Zeus were left in confusion. After mulling things over a little more, Hermes turned to his father.

“So my guardian nearly misses an arrow, and Apollo’s has disappeared. Something is wrong, for sure.”

Zeus reached up to scratch at his beard. It was such a cliché thinking pose that Hermes doubted he was even thinking at all. It seemed as if he was only doing it to look cool as he answered, “Something is definitely wrong. We know that for sure, but what the question is: what?” he said. “What force could be strong enough to unbalance our guardians in such a way? They were trained by the Great One himself, sent to us as gifts and he would not allow them to become like this. If we had any way to contact him now, it would make things easier, but after our deal, he disappeared, never to be seen by anyone but the guardians themselves, since.”

Just that second, Hermes pulled out his phone. It turned into a clipboard. Taking the pen, he began scribbling down all of the guardians' names and who they were protecting.

“So,” he said as he was writing, “We know that my guardian, yours, Ares’, and Poseidon’s have been reacting slower than usual-” he circled the names of said guardians “-and that Apollo’s guardian is missing-” he crossed out Lysandra’s name on the list “-and that Percy is still in a coma-” he underlined Percy’s name, mainly because his situation had been different than everyone else’s. He’d been at full strength beforehand, and the only reason he was incapacitated was because he took a hit for Artemis, reacting at full speed. Hermes turned back to Zeus after checking over his list once or twice. “What else do we know? Because I think keeping a chart of what is happening would be very useful.”

“Before she went AWOL, Apollo said that Lysandra was also acting strangely.”

Hermes nodded and circled Lysandra’s name as well.

“The others haven’t shown any signs yet, as far as I’ve seen, but Athena has mentioned that her guardian has been spacing out recently.”

“Okay,” Hermes, circling Nereus’ name. “Is that all we know so far?” he asked.

Zeus shrugged. “I guess. I can’t of anything else off the top of my head. It’s not looking good so far,” he observed, looking over Hermes’ shoulder at the list.

* * *

Only two of the gods seemed unaffected by what was happening around them, mainly because they were far too focused on fixing the mortal world, to notice.

Athena and Hephaestus, the two builders of Olympus, sat together at a table with blueprints and other assorted papers sitting in front of them. Beside them sat Hecate, and the three were conversing about the mortals down below.

“I’d say we’d best do our luck with a freak storm. The mortals will believe that,” Hecate said, then nodded and smiled to herself about the plan, seemingly proud.

“I agree. And the mortals are resourceful. All around the country, they’ve already sent in billions of dollars to help with the repairs and to support the families that lost their homes in our battle,” Athena said, though at the end she looked down as if embarrassed by her actions.

“But the mist can only do so much. If there isn’t at least a logical explanation or an alternate set of information for the mortals, they’ll start to question what happened. You’ve heard of conspiracy theorists, haven’t you?” Hephaestus asked in a grunt.

“Of course, I have, but that doesn’t mean the rest of the mortal will believe it if we get it just right. If they have no proof, they have no argument,” Athena pointed out.

Hephaestus grumbled, but gave a swift nod, acknowledging the fact that his concerns had been taken care of. The three then continued with their plans, pouring over the documents in front of them.

* * *

At the end of the day, when all the work that could’ve been done, had been done, and Apollo had run out of people to ask, and Hermes and Zeus had run out of suggestions to write down, everyone returned to the throne room.

Each god walked in sullenly, followed closely by their guardian. Zeus was already sat on his throne, his guardian at his side as he glared speculatively at the guardians as they walked in. 

He nearly dropped his mask as his son, Apollo, walked in, his guardian still missing. The sun god walked with a lag in his step and shoulders that were hunched with defeat. He sagged in his throne, his whole body seemingly melted by grief.

Opposite Apollo, Artemis sat in her throne a well, a rare sight recently, since she was barely ever seen not sitting by Percy’s bedside. Seeing as she was here, it was obvious that there had been no change, and as much as that was bad news, it was also somewhat good news, because it meant that Percy hadn’t gotten any worse.

Just then, Zeus noticed something new. Ares had just walked in, his shoulders hunched in the same way that Apollo’s were. The war god sat down, and Zeus decided to voice his concerns.

“Ares, where is your guardian? Eulalia?”

The man in question grunted. “Gone missing, now hasn’t she? Like the twerp’s over there,” he pointed to Apollo, who was still slouched in his throne.

“Eulalia has gone missing? Where did you see her last?” asked Nereus, Athena’s guardian.

“Down in the city. We were fixing some buildings for them mortals, down there. Clearing the rubble and putting it in the trucks to get some people out. I then told her we were leaving, turned my back for one second, and she vanished. Poof!” Ares punctuated his statement with a flair of his hands.

* * *

Back in the city, Eulalia was still helping with repairs when a young girl - only about six years of age - ran up to her.

“Pwease, miss, pwease!” she cried. “Pwease help me! My mama and my papa are stuck!”

“Of course, sweetie, where are they? Where did you see them last?” Eulalia asked kindly, kneeling down in front of her girl and meeting her eyes. The girl was practically shaking, her whole body in shivers. Her face was streaked with dust from the destruction and there were a few small cuts on her hands and knees. She must’ve fallen. Her hair was in tangles.

But she was one of the lucky ones. She had gotten out.

“This way! This way!” she girl cried, grabbing Eulalia’s arm and tugging her off in the direction of a nondescript apartment building. “They’re over here! Please help them! They’re stuck!”

Eulalia’s eyes were sharp, scanning their surroundings for any signs of danger. Seeing none, she allowed herself to be led into the building. Currently, it was in no state that it would collapse on them unless they specifically hit something to unbalance it.

As they got into the stairwell, Eulalia saw that the path was blocked. She approached the large chunks, telling the girl to stay back. Examining the collapsed section of concrete, she asked, “Are they behind here?”

The little girl didn’t answer.

Eulalia turned around, fearing the worst for the girl. Had she fallen?

No. She was still standing there, but… there was something different about her. She had a strange grin on her face - a grin that should never  _ ever _ be seen on the face of a child.

“Hey, are you okay?” Eulalia asked.

The girl chuckled, the jerky movements making the lightning shine on her face in the evilest sense of the word. She looked…demonic. Then, the girl moved. She walked towards Eulalia, slowly but purposefully, and, fearing the strange actions of the child, Eulalia backed up.

Soon, her back pressed against the rubble blocking the stairway.

“You’re scaring me a little, now. Are you alright?” she asked, her voice barely above a squeak.

“There’s nothing to worry about,” the girl assured her, but something about her tone made Eulalia worry even more. “I just want someone to play with me.”

She got closer, closer.

Once she was close enough for Eulalia to see the white of her eyes - hollow, lifeless - the world went black.


	4. The Ugly Truth

***Third Person Point of View***

Hospitals aren’t typically nice. Their bleached walls leave anyone blinded, and the stench of cleaning solution leaves an unpleasant burning in the nose. 

Luckily for Percy, this wasn’t the case. He was situated in the finest room of Apollo’s medical wing, with baby-blue stained walls and an ocean breeze scent wafting from the diffuser. His bed - the only one in the room - was a marshmallow. It had double the padding, double the pillows, and double the blankets than any bed would ever need.

Beside him, a single chair stood, lonely at his bedside. It was the only other piece of furniture in the room that was designed to hold a person, as the rest were dressers of draws and a mess of complicated medical equipment.

Despite being the only piece of upholstery in the room - or maybe  _ because  _ of it - the chair was almost always occupied. Artemis, the Greek goddess of the moon and the wild, was usually the one occupying said chair. Why? Because Perseus was her guardian and the only reason he was in Apollo’s medical wing, in his fancy, private, room, was because he had been doing his job: protecting her.

She wasn’t visiting him out of guilt, though. No. That most certainly wasn’t the case. She didn’t feel as if his condition was in some backwards way, her fault because she knew that Percy wouldn’t want her to think that. She would, instead, honour his sacrifice for her.

And seeing as she was there, almost every minute of every day, she needed something to do. Sometimes, she’d read a book - or read a book to him. Other times, she would just sit in silence, her hand resting gently in his, waiting for a sign. A twitch. When she wasn’t doing either of those, she would talk to him. Just talk. Often it was about random things. The weather. The rebuilding of the city. The movements of her chariot across the sky - “It will be a full moon soon!” - or something. It didn’t really matter.

One day, however, it was exceptionally important.

It was only a few days after Percy had been in the hospital, and she had visited him every day of that week, except one - when she had to go out and search for the gods’ missing items, and then report back to the other gods during an impromptu council meeting, where hence she discovered that not only was her guardian incapacitated, all of them were acting strangely, and two were already missing.

And so, the next morning she entered the room with a stormy cloud above her head, bringing a promise of dread and sullen silence. As soon as she saw Percy, she tried for a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. The pain and frustration held with a firm, two-handed grasp on her spirit, and absolutely refused to let go.

Once she rested herself in the comfortable armchair, after quickly adjusting the pillows, she reached forward, grasping Percy’s hand in her own and interlacing their fingers.

She held his right hand for his left was but a stub, right below the wrist. It was wrapped thickly in gauze, but the once starch bandages were speckled burgundy with blood.

“Hello, Percy.”

She said this every day. It was simple, and all-around easy to say to him. It was almost like she was having a conversation with him, despite the fact that she knew he wouldn’t answer back. She preferred to pretend that he did.

“I’m well, thank you. I hope you’re getting better?”

She knew he was. Apollo said so himself: Percy’s wounds were almost completely healed. There were no infections and the skin was healing back together at an exponential rate. Artemis was pleased to hear that as soon as Percy was awake, they’d be able to start fitting him for a prosthetic with Hephaestus.

That was the problem, though. Percy’s “waking up”.

He was already supposed to be up, but he wasn’t. He just… wasn’t. He remained in his bed, eyes closed and still, face expressionless. His lips didn’t even curve up into a smile, as she usually saw whenever she caught a glimpse of him sleeping before.

She didn’t understand all the same stuff that Apollo did - at least in his field of specialty - but she knew enough to know that the brain waves weren’t supposed to be as low as they were for Percy on the scanner.

Quickly, she pulled herself out of those thoughts, instead of focusing on what she wanted to say.

“A few things happened yesterday, so I couldn’t visit. I’m sorry about that. I really hope that you don’t mind. I mean, after the amputations that Apollo had to do, I doubt you’d mind me missing a day, but…” Artemis trailed off. Her attempt at a joke wasn’t so funny…as she looked back on it.

“You may already know, but the damage to your left hand was extensive, and he had to cut it off. It’s not so bad, and when you wake up, we’ll get you the best prosthetic hand the god of the forge can think up. It’ll… it’ll… I don’t know. Be attached to your tendons themselves, so you’ll be able to control it. And I’m sure that Apollo and Hephaestus are working together, planning to make artificial nerves, too, so that you won’t only be able to move it, but be able to feel it. It’ll be like nothing ever happened.” She smiled, showing her teeth in a grin for the first time in over forty-eight hours. 

Giving his hand a squeeze, she briefly wondered what his new hand would be like. Her eyes fell upon the stump at the end of his left arm, her brain trying so very hard to reattach his hand.

“And your leg, too,” she added, almost as an afterthought. Somehow, it was, even though his leg had been the worst of his many injuries.

“Your right leg took the brunt of it. I guess it was a direct hit because everything went flying. I didn’t see much of what happened - it was too bright - but I remember the feeling in my chest when I ran towards you and saw your leg. It was…horrific. If anything, I’m glad that Apollo took it off because there was no way that it would recover from the blast. And the smell…” She paused, scrunching her nose as if the stench had come back.

“I can still smell it. The coppery scent - like what you’d expect pennies to taste like, I guess. And there was burning. You were bleeding out, fast, and Hephaestus had to cauterize the wound right then and there so you wouldn’t die in my arms.”

Artemis was about to say more but was interrupted as Apollo walked in. Her eyes flashed to the clock, seeing that it was already eight o’clock. He was right on time, as usual. She stayed silent as he tugged on his white coat, search for a pen in his breast pocket.

He snatched the clipboard from the edge of the bed and checked the numbers, recording the new ones that glowed on the numerous screens. Then, typing in a few calculations, he gave a nod and stepped away from the machines.

Artemis thought that he was going to leave after that. He usually did, and then came back after two or four hours to check on Percy again and record the new numbers. Unfortunately for her, the sun god remained.

He summoned another chair. It was just a plastic folding chair, for which Artemis was relieved. That meant he wouldn’t be staying long, even if it meant he was staying.

“So, sis,” he said, his tone conversational, “What’s up?”

He spoke as if he  _ hadn’t _ seen her in the same chair, in the same position for the past few days, like it was just business as usual. She’d be minding her own business and he’d walk up to say hi, but mainly to annoy her more than anything.

In response to his question, Artemis allowed herself a sarcastic answer. “The sky, Apollo. It’s always up.”

“Touché, sister,” he replied, but this time, Artemis could hear the sadness in his voice. It was poorly disguised, like a polar bear in a coal factory.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “Are you still upset about Lysandra? I mean-”

“Of course, I’m upset! She was my  _ guardian _ after all. My companion! She’s only been here for about a year or so and already, she knows me better than anyone else - except maybe you. Now, she’s… She’s…” Apollo couldn’t seem to bring himself to say “gone”. 

His tongue must’ve frozen. His cheeks were cramped. His jaw hitched. That must be it. That’s why he couldn’t talk anymore.

Artemis knew that none of those was the answer. She knew how Apollo was feeling. She felt the exact same in her heart - a similar sensation clench around her heart and squeeze the life out of her every time she looked at Percy. She knew what it was to worry about a loved one. To wonder if you would ever see them again as you knew them - alive and happy and healthy.

Her eyes softened from the harsh glare that she’d turned on her brother ever since he’d walked in. He had a hole in his heart and it would only be filled when Lysandra returned. Artemis was well aware of such a hole. Her own was large and gaping and Percy-shaped, and its hungering jaws would only be sated by the soft green of Percy’s eyes. By the subtle curve of his smile.

“Have any other guardians gone missing since yours? I knew that Ares was concerned yesterday about his.”

Apollo bobbed his eyes, though kept his eyes looking forward. “Yeah. Eulalia has disappeared. She hasn’t come back since they left to patrol the city.” 

Then, the two siblings sat in silence. All that could be heard was the beeping of Percy’s EKG and the ragged sound of each breath being forced into his lungs by a respirator.

Apollo was suddenly on his feet again, his hands fiddling with the machines around Percy’s bed. He worked without talking for once, his tongue stilled by the sullen reality sinking in. his guardian was gone. Ares’ guardian was gone. Artemis’ guardian was barely holding on.

What was happening? They didn’t know. They couldn’t know. They couldn’t possibly begin to grasp what was going on other than the fact that there was a greater enemy out there and he was most likely the cause of all their grief over the past year or so.

It was so much easier to just blame a single entity than the figure out everything that happened as a series of events in a web - where everything happened because of something else, and it wasn’t one single person’s fault. Maybe that’s why other ancient civilizations preferred the rule of only one god versus a polytheistic belief.

“Well,” Apollo finally said, breaking the lingering hush. “I’d best be off. I have other patients to tend to, you know.”

Popping the pen back into his breast pocket, he hung the clipboard back on the end of the hospital bed and exited the room. Even though he closed the door behind him, Artemis could hear the tapping of his shoes all the way down the hall.

As soon as she could no longer hear him, she turned her gaze back to Percy. Despite the respirator and all the other machines that he was hooked up to, she smiled, because he still looked so peaceful.

She wondered for a few seconds what to do, before deciding to sing to him. She was only, humming, of course, but hummed beautifully. She’d picked out a song that meant a lot to her - a lullaby that her mother used to sing to her and Apollo while they still lived on their island together.

She had just made it to the end of the song when there was a sturdy knock on the door. Shocked into silence, Artemis turned. It was Thalia.

“Sorry to interrupt, milady, but Zeus had ordered us to head out again to search for the missing items. I tried to argue, but he won’t have it.”

A frown marked Artemis’ face, but she stood nonetheless, giving Percy’s hand a gentle squeeze right before letting go.

“Okay,” she said, dusting off her silver leggings. “Let’s go.”


	5. Wait. What Just Happened?

***First Person Point of View ~ Artemis***

I shivered as the cold wind blew past, creeping under my jacket and tickling my sides as it did so. Scowling, I remembered where we were. Alaska. I hated this place. It was one of the few places in the world that I didn’t have my powers and it always made me feel so weak whenever we came here. The only powers I still had, were my senses. Good thing, too, because we needed to follow them to find the weapons.

Suddenly, I felt it. There was a surge of incredible power nearby. It must be the weapons. If it wasn’t, I didn’t want to be around whatever was in its place.

Trudging forward, I felt the crisp frost crunch under my heavy boots. The grass shattered under the pressure in the places where it still poked up, but snow-coated pretty much everything, so that didn’t happen often. As we turned around a few tall pines, we saw a cave entrance ahead, hidden under a bank of snow. Radiant energy spilled from it, so much so that I could almost taste it. The mouth of the cave was barely a crack in the snow, but we all managed to squeeze through. We had to find out what that was - hopefully, it was the stolen weapons.

My hunters followed me as I foraged ahead, sniffing and twisting my head at odd times. If it were any other person, they would’ve looked crazy, but luckily, my hunters were used to me when I was hunting.

I heard the twang of bowstrings as they drew their weapons, holding their arrows aloft in case of an attack. The cave had widened as soon as we entered, so we shuffling along in a group, holding our torches high to light the way. I noted along the journey that there were multiple scars in the rock walls, like claw marks. However, we could not stop when we were so close, for the deeper we went, the more powerful this divine aura became.

Once we hit a lower point, though, all our torches flickered. They flickered once, and then twice, and then they went out completely.

“Milady? What happened?” a young hunter asked.

“It must’ve been the wind. Caves like these funnel the wind so that it's more powerful than outside,” I replied. I couldn’t see her, but I tried to reassure her.

“But Milady,” she insisted, “There was no wind. I felt  _ nothing _ and my torch just went out!”

“Then…I’m not sure what happened.” I hated being unsure. My hunters relied on me to be their leader - and their protector, at times - but now, I couldn’t seem to do either. I could at least try to be the leader with what little abilities the borders left me. Pulling out some flint and steel, I made sure to pass it along so it would reach the hands of the torchbearers.

“Flint and steel,” was whispered at it travelled from hand to hand.

One by one, the torches were lit, but they were all dim. Why was that? The fires seemed to barely glow - like dying embers rather than lively flames. However, as soon as the last one was lit, they all flared to life, raging so high they almost touched the ceiling. That would’ve been good - as long as it didn’t harm anyone - if it wasn’t for the blinding light revealing only an army of monsters around us.

Thousands upon thousands of hellhounds and Dracaena surrounded us in a large cave chapter, piling over each other and moving together so that it made it impossible for me to see how many there really were.

Pure, unadulterated silence reigned for a whole two seconds before the first Dracaena roared out a battle cry and attacked. The hellhounds followed her lead, swarming down around us in a mess of fur, claws, and teeth.

I jumped into action - though my reactions were slower than usual - and began firing arrows at as many as I could. Loading three arrows at a time, I was taking down enemies fast, but every time I shot one down, two more advanced to take its place.

Then, the strangest thing happened. A strange ball of pure light zoomed down the cavern path from which we’d come and flew through the air around the army. For every monster it touched, there was an explosion of dust. It seemed to be helping us. It also seemed to be the energy that I had felt, but how was that possible? It had come from the outside, where we had, but I’d felt it and followed it into the cave in the first place.

I was distracted as I saw a Dracaena load an arrow, aiming at one of my newer hunters, a young girl by the name of Lydia.

“No!” I cried, lunging forward. I barely felt my feet move, but suddenly, I was in between Lydia and the arrow, and then I was pressed against the hard, damp stone floor of the cave. Looking down as I grit my teeth, I saw the arrow protruding from my stomach, but didn’t make a move to touch it. It was better if I left it in, or the blood loss would kill me faster than anything else.

Everything around me seemed to mesh into one big blur, but I saw the blue light working even faster than before, and soon, the last of the monsters were gone. My hunters were immediately gathered around me, and as soon as they were, the blue light grew brighter.

It glowed with a furious light until it was almost blinding, and then it exploded. I tried to brace myself for more pain of some sort, but it didn’t come. The next thing I knew, my hunters were carrying me along the streets of Olympus, towards Apollo’s temple. I knew that I must’ve left bloodstains along the path as we ran, but I couldn’t bring myself to care; I was starting to feel dizzy from the pain.

As soon as we entered the medical wing, Atalanta and Thalia took me to Percy’s room, where, by the schedule, they knew Apollo would be once again. They threw open the door and carried me in, either of my arms around their shoulders. As per usual, Apollo was in there, writing down more notes about Percy’s condition. Upon hearing the door open, he turned, a large grin on his face, probably because he knew it must be me, but as soon as he saw the state I was in, his smile fell from his face.

“Sis, what happened?” he asked. There was a hint of intense worry in his voice, but he immediately went into doctor-mode and summoned another bed, which I was brought over to and placed in. Leaning over me, Apollo pressed his stethoscope to my chest, and I knew he was checking to see if any of my organs had been punctured.

To his question, I didn’t have the strength to reply, but I heard Atalanta’s voice running like a buzzsaw as she explained what happened at a rapid-fire pace.

Apollo nodded along with her story, but his eyes remained focused on my stomach. He brought out a large bottle of alcohol and popped it open, pouring it over the wound. I screamed at the sudden burn, but he placed his hand on my shoulder to soothe me.

“This will hurt, sis,” he warned as his fingers wrapped around the shaft of the arrow.

“Any more than it already does?” I gasped out.

“A little, yeah,” he admitted, but before I had a chance to ask him what he meant, he gave a sharp tug, pulling the arrow from my chest in one quick move. 

He seemed to have just the right angle, as it came out just like it had gone in. Nothing was punctured, nothing was torn, and as soon as Apollo had disposed of the arrow, he made a healing paste of ambrosia and nectar and began rubbing it over my wound. Almost immediately, I began to heal.

“You should be good tomorrow morning. Stay here tonight, and then tomorrow I’m come back to tell you when you’re free to go. Just take it easy,” Apollo ordered as he went to wash his hands of my blood and the sticky paste.

I nodded, watching as my brother left the room. “Atalanta, Thalia,” I called.

“Yes, milady?” they asked in unison as they stepped up to my bedside. 

“Find the rest of the hunters. Then, go to the council meeting without me and tell them what happened.”

My two huntresses nodded and left the room. I was alone with Percy once again, but this time, both of us were bedridden. I was already anxious. Thankfully, he was asleep, or he’d be almost out of his mind by now. Unfortunately, he was asleep, and the only thing I wanted was for him to wake up.

* * *

As soon as they left the room, Thalia and Atalanta went to find the rest of the hunters and take them to the council meeting, as Artemis had instructed. It was a simple task, as they’d stopped and been waiting outside of Apollo’s temple, in plain sight for the two older girls as soon as they’d stepped out the front door.

“Lady Artemis instructed us to go to the council meeting without her and inform them of what has happened. Come on,” Thalia said as they approached.

The rest of the hunters nodded and soon, they were inside the main hall of Olympus and had taken their place by Artemis’ throne.

Poseidon was the first to notice the missing goddess. “Where is Artemis?” he asked softly, but was cut off as Zeus noticed as well, asking the same question, though in a booming voice.

The hunters immediately turned to Thalia, who launched into an explanation of what had happened while they were searching for the weapons. She first talked about Artemis’ feeling, then the cave, then the torches. 

As she spoke about the battle, she didn’t talk in detail about the glowing orb, because that would be a problem for later. Instead, she focused on Artemis being injured in the fight due to her weakened powers and stupid self-sacrificing nature, at which all of the gods groaned in agreement.

* * *

The medical wing’s lights suddenly flickered off, and I knew that it was late and time to go to sleep. Leaning back in my mountain of pillows, I whispered a soft, “Goodnight, Percy,” before closing my eyes, ready to drift into the realm of Morpheus.

I’d almost escaped into my dreams when a voice answered me: “Goodnight, Artemis.”

Despite my injuries, I leapt out of bed, wincing as my bare feet hit the cold tile and the movement jarred my torso. I didn’t care, though. “Percy?” I asked, stumbling over to him. My hand clumsily reached for the bedside lamp and turned it on, the light suddenly illuminating his face.

His eyes fluttered before opening. “Hey, Artemis,” he said. His voice was rough and he sounded tired - as if he’d just run two marathons on the same day - but he was awake.

He was awake!

_ “Apollo!” _ I cried out for my twin telepathically,  _ “Apollo! Come quick! Come here right now!” _

* * *

Back in the council room, Apollo jumped out of his throne. Without so much as a word of explanation, he sprinted out of the room, not even bothering to close the door behind him.

The next few seconds were a blur of movement and the rest of the gods, too, were on their feet and following the distraught-looking god of the sun. They ran after him as his feet slammed against the golden pathway of Olympus, entering his own palace and easily navigating the maze of its hallways. Once they’d all caught up to him, entering Percy’s - and now Artemis’ - hospital room, they found out what the emergency was.

Percy was sitting up in bed.

Sitting up!

He was sitting up and smiling and talking with Artemis, despite having just woken from a near-week long coma only to find that he was missing pieces of two out of his four limbs.

Cries of jovial jubilation filled the room as they all swarmed around the door to get in and welcome Percy back to the world of the living. For a moment, all seemed right with the world.


	6. My New Limbs

***First Person Point of View ~ Perseus***

I have to say, waking up is something that everyone typically does, and in itself, it isn’t very thrilling. So, when I say that waking up after being in a coma wasn’t unlike any other time I’ve woken up, I’m telling the truth. What was different about it was how everyone rushed to my bedside and seemed so happy to see me, as if I’d vanished off the face of the earth.

Another thing about waking up and immediately having Artemis by my side, was that when I tried to rest my other hand over hers that was clutching one of mine, I realized that there was no hand at the end of my arm. It was a stump, and visually, I saw that, but I could almost feel it. Like any other time, my brain would tell it to move, and I could feel it moving, but physically, there was nothing there.

Strange. I’d always heard about that, but I never realized it was true. Not literally, at least. I’d always thought that if you lost a limb, it would be obvious that the limb was gone, and you wouldn’t be able to feel it, but apparently, that wasn’t the case.

Then, to top it all off, I also found that half of my leg was missing, too! Luckily, there wasn’t anything else…unless Artemis wasn’t telling me something, though I’m pretty sure that all my other limbs are accounted for.

“How are you, Percy?” she asked immediately. Looking at her face, I could see clearly that she was worried. All the signs were there. Her eyebrows were furrowed together, causing creases to form on her forehead. Her lips were puckered together in a frown, and the general sparkle in her eyes was dimmer than usual.

“I’m…uh…” I struggled to find my voice, and found a glass of water at my lips within seconds. Taking a sip, I muttered a quick “thanks,” and said, “I’m feeling okay, I guess. I mean, sure, life as a protector is hard, and I’ve heard about guardians in the past losing their limbs in the line of duty… I just…I guess I never thought that it would happen to me, you know?”

Artemis nodded, smiling a little, though there were tears in her eyes. “Let’s get you to Hephaestus’ workshop. He’s been working on some prosthetics for you ever since you’ve been unconscious.”

Just then, the chaos began. The door burst open and in came Apollo and the rest of the Olympians. It was almost like an avalanche of people, because Apollo almost stumbled and face planted as soon as he came through the door, and I’m pretty sure that the others would’ve trampled right over him if he had.

“Sorry, sis. I came as fast as I could, but they followed me,” Apollo said. He was a little out of breath, if his panting said anything, but not too much. His hair was out of whack, too, which was surprising because he was almost Aphrodite level when it came to his self-grooming.

“Percy!” was cried in unison from the rest of the people in the room, and they immediately all gathered around the room, some smothering Artemis where she sat. Wiggling her way out, she stood near Apollo, and expression of mild annoyance settling in her facial features.

“It’s good to see you, too, but please, give me some space,” I said, though my voice had become wheezy. A terrible pain made itself known in my chest and I gasped dryly, grasping at the front of my hospital gown. In my ears, a loud, fast beeping made itself known and I could tell that my heart rate monitor was going off the charts.

“Okay, Everyone! Back away from my patient! I have to tend to him! Hephaestus, if you could please bring your work here for Percy, I would greatly appreciate it,” Apollo announced, holding his arms up from added effect. I nearly laughed at his antics but couched as another wave of pain wrapped around my heart. 

The Olympians dispersed, some leaving the room and others summoning chairs and sitting in a large circle around my bed, leaving enough room for Apollo to work. Artemis, however, retook her spot right beside me again, holding my hand. Smiling at her, I squeezed her fingers, trying to express reassurance to her with my eyes and my gentle touch. I would be okay. She didn’t have to worry about me all the time; that was my job.

Later, when Hephaestus returned with the new prosthetics, the Olympians were in awe. Hephaestus grinned as he worked alongside Apollo to attach the limbs, connecting the wires within to my nerves and tendons to my tendons. It was a strange sensation to say the least as they dug around with the sensitive ends of my leg, and I kind of wondered why they hadn’t done this while I was asleep, but I didn’t mind.

As they stepped away, the two gods crossing their arms and gazed at me appreciatively. Or, more likely, they gazed at my prosthetic limbs. As for me? I was in awe of the new limbs - both of which were incredibly shiny. Slowly, I wiggled my fingers, just to test them out, and I could almost feel my eyes alight with amazement as the digits did exactly as I expected them to. The only problem was a slight lag, but I’m sure that it would go away as I got used to it. Then, flexing my toes, I could feel determination course through my body. I swung my legs out to the side and hung both the real and the fake leg over the edge, preparing to stand.

“Percy! Stop,” Artemis said, laying a hand on my arm. She pushed me back into my pillows and shoved my feet back under the covers. “Rest. You just came out of a coma and need to get used to life again. Also, your body is still merging with the prosthetics. Hephaestus may be good with machines, but he can’t get your body to accept them any faster than he’d like. You can go walking around tomorrow.”

Oh. Darn. I really wanted to test them out, but I guess she was right. I had to rest, and, due to the slight lag that my prosthetics still had, it wouldn’t be a good idea to try walking unless I wanted to fall flat on my face. I sighed, nodding. “Okay,” I said. Turning over in bed, I closed my eyes, flexing my new fingers once more before I was out again.


	7. The Final Disappearance

***First Person Point of View ~ Perseus***

Rehab wasn’t like anything I’d ever experienced. The long hours of practice getting used to my new limbs took a toll on me like never before, and on top of that, I had to get used to the feeling of numbness, as the synthetic limbs, while having nerves, hadn’t yet synced to my brain. It was like I’d fallen asleep, crushing my arm and leg, and woke up with that fat feeling you always get. 

I know, I know, I should be grateful. Not many people even have the chance to get new limbs like mine - I don’t think anyone has before, actually - but I am grateful, I really am. It was just… weird, and no one would be able to deny it if they were going through the same.

Then, of course, there was the lag. I’d think of moving my arm, but it really wouldn’t, and then, half a second later, it would move. Now, I wasn’t very coordinated before the separation of my arm and leg, but the lag definitely put a stumble in my step - quite literally, I’m afraid. I mean, they’d always move, just not at the right time, and without feeling. It was like I was playing a video game, but at the same time, not. My limbs were half-robot and half-human, and though I felt like I was clutched my hand into a fist, my fingers hung limply before curling slowly.

As I stumbled toward the door, nearly falling flat on my face for the third time, I heard voices outside. Pressing my body against the frame, I laid my heavily-bandaged ear against the crevice, trying to hear what was going on. My hearing was still on the fritz from the explosion, but through the heavy bandaging surrounding my head, I could make out Artemis and Apollo’s hushed voices in snippets.

“...guardians…”

“They’re… faster than ever...”

“...I heard… yours... Ares’... gone…”

“...tell Percy…”

What? Though I couldn’t piece it all together, concern washed over me. It involved me somehow, and the guardians were disappearing? How could that be? We were the most well-trained and cohesive unit in all of the galaxy! There’s no way we could-! Wait! There is one who could do such a thing, but why?

I shook my head to clear away my traitorous thoughts. No. I can’t think that. I can’t even believe it crossed my mind! But if not him, then who?

***Third Person Point of View ~ Iago***

A laugh rose from the depths of space. It started as just a low rumble but grew louder and louder until it echoed in the chasm, where no other sound existed. In the darkness of his lair, Iago had a dastardly curl on his lip and a malicious glint in his eyes, which were once filled with false sincerity. In the darkness, just barely flickering, small torches strained their light against the eerie shadows of eternity.

He sat over a scrying bowl, shimmering with shallow water. It positively thrummed with energy, though its silvery reflection only revealed a domed ceiling. The image changed suddenly under his large, waving hand, and instead, in the water gleamed a plethora of stars in a galaxy well known to humankind. The Milky Way, with its constant stream of light, shone out of the bowl and illuminated the room with its brilliance.

Even in the dim lighting of the throne room, this light bounced ecstatically, revealing the face of the dark fellow residing over its source. He had a strong, chiselled chin - one sought by men, but rarely blessed to anyone. A goatee hung dark and sharp upon it, below a set of lips so thin they melded into the pale white skin of his cheeks. The only colour on him were the faded veins popping against his translucent skin. His hair, like his goatee, hung black as night and a gruesome moustache sprouted from his upper lip.

This was his true form. Not the pleasantly tanned, ever-smiling mentor as they knew him.

His voice flowed, slick as it rolled off his tongue with the smoothness of oil. “Those pesky gods know nothing of my plans. If only they suspected that there’s something more to their guardians’ disappearances,” he mused.

Standing from his throne, he swatted aside the scrying bowl, which surprisingly stayed upright, without a drop of magic water spilling.

“But, no matter. My plans are far bigger. If I want to truly destroy these gods then I must hit them any have in the past. Gaea didn’t think big enough. Neither did the titans. So that is why I must use my wit and cunning in my ultimate plan.” He chuckled darkly. Turning back to his throne, he looked at the two figures standing at its base. 

They stood, motionless and rigid, like statues.

“With you all charged up with earth’s energy signature, I can send you back and forth at will.” A frown settled upon his lips. “Alas, I cannot. Only you, my pets, may have that ability.” The grin returned. “I think I will send you to retrieve my other puppets now so we can play. They must be nice and ready now. Don’t you agree?”

The two figures - Lysandra and Eulalia, taken from their charges, Apollo and Ares respectively - just stared at him blankly. They blinked in unison, and, in a dull, monotonous voice they replied, “Yes, master.”

Iago’s laugh echoed again, the maniacal melody rising in the vacuum of space, where the only sound was him and all he allowed, as only those worthy of his blessing could speak in his domain.

Returning to his throne, he sat, palms laid flat on the silver armrests. The bowl floated back to him and landed gently in his lap. The image shimmered and vibrated as it hummed, and soon, voices could be heard coming from the dish. Whispers from their own throne room were the undertone of a melody only heard by Iago, and he grinned, wider and wider as they sent their guardians on a frivolous search for his little brainwashed pets.

_ “Hmm,” _ he pondered,  _ “Maybe I should send them out to lure the others in. Instead of going on a meaningless search, I’ll just let them come straight to me.” _ After several moments of silent thought, he thought of the perfect plan. “I’ll send one of you to Circe’s island - or at least what’s left of it,” he muttered the last part to himself, “And the other will go to… Alaska. That should be enough to draw a team of at least four or five.”

With a snap of my fingers, there they were. Another snap brought armies of monsters gathered around them, ravenous. And finally, I opened a message through my ever-loyal spy, Iris.

“Help! I need some backup! They’re closing in on me!” I said, mocking desperation. The guardians each copied my words, in their own ways so it seemed believable. I grinned. They are such wonderful puppets; I can’t wait to have more.

Several thousand monsters charged, clashing with the guardians. As per their training, they fought hard, cutting down each and every monster that came too close, but for every one that fell to dust, two more took its place, and each of the guardians was slowly being overwhelmed by the monsters’ sheer numbers.

Iago watched as his Iris messages closed on a group of his other guardians, clambering to group together in hopes of rescuing their comrades in arms from a bloody end at the hands of monsters. They were so intent on the missions that none felt the unsettling feeling wash over them, whispering a warning of the trap. He grinned. It was too easy. They were just too gullible. No wonder he’d been able to fool them all so easily.

Then he frowned. Except one. There had always been one who was suspicious of his intentions. When  _ he _ was recaptured, Iago would have to take extra care in the brainwashing, just to make sure it lasted.  _ He _ was a fighter, after all.

Unfortunately, he’d have to wait until the others were captured first. He had no agents to send to earth for  _ that guardian _ just yet. He did, in fact, have more guardians in training, but they couldn’t go to earth to complete his bidding. Only the gods could call their guardians to earth, and only after the guardians had been summoned could he sent them back and forth between his realm and the gods freely. 

Iago scowled at the thought. Blast the restrictions! What use was it to be an all-powerful being if he couldn’t do something as simple as travel to the mortal world?

He watched in silence as the guardians’ beta team reached Mt. Blackburn in Alaska. From higher up, in a cave near the top where she’d been locked in combat with the monster army, Lysandra watched with dead eyes. She grinned, eyes gleaming with evil crimson light, then stepped back into the darkness of the cavern’s gaping maw.

The image in his bowl flipped and shimmered, then showed the alpha team moving in on Circe’s island. Their best sailors maneuvered the Sea of Monsters with a grace never before seen by mortals, and in quick succession, they bypassed Scylla and Charybdis, the guardians of the triangle.

Soon, they were ashore on Circe’s island, pulling their boat onto the sand, as the docks were long since torn away and sent afloat. The buildings, now settled with dust, and the once glorious fountains dry, stood abandoned and sad on the deserted island.

“Where is she?” Nereus - Athena’s guardians - asked. He looked around, fingers splayed as he felt for the water molecules on the island, searching for a life form. “There!” he pointed further into the marble city.

Their team of four took off between the buildings, running in perfect formation. They had just entered another courtyard when Nereus stopped and looked around, confused.

“What-?”

He didn’t even have enough time to finish as they were attacked from all sides by a mysterious assailant. All four received a knock over the head and hit the ground before completing their thoughts of confusion.


	8. The True Enemy

***Third Person Point of View***

Percy knew that he was fully healed. He felt perfectly fine. However, since he was still a bit wobbly on his new leg and couldn’t quite keep things held in his new hand, Artemis told him to stay in the room until she returned.

Of course, he didn’t listen.

He was on his way to the throne room. Artemis and Apollo had been summoned a little while ago and hadn’t returned yet, and Percy was still curious about what he’d overheard a few days ago about his fellow guardians. He hadn’t seen any of them around - none had come to visit. How come? He knew it was probably because they were busy with their duties, but it didn’t stop him from worrying about the…  _ other _ possibility. He couldn’t risk not knowing, hence why he’d snuck out of his room to spy on the council meeting.

“-still haven’t returned. I fear the worst.”

That was Zeus. Percy crept closer. He pressed his eye to the crack in the doors, seeing the gods all sitting around in their thrones. Then, he put his ear up close, to hear what they were saying.

“They’ve probably all been kidnapped. Just like the rest of ‘em!” Dionysus said, nonchalantly. However, Percy could hear the genuine worry in his tone. “Then again, they might just show up, late as usual!” 

He was trying to cover up his feelings. That was for certain. Percy then heard Zeus summoning an Iris message and he moved to look again, seeing images of the guardians being dragged away by monsters - into a dark vortex that could only belong to one being. And Percy knew who that was.

“Now, where are they?” he asked quietly to himself.

Just as he was about to leave, he heard a faint mentioning of Alaska and decided that was where he would start. Teleporting himself to Canada - where he could cross into the godless frozen wasteland, Percy smiled. His feet touched down in the snow, and the cold stung his cheeks, but from his training, he was conditioned to be in such a cold climate. 

Snow was falling gently around him, so at least he wouldn’t have to cover his eyes from a storm, but it blocked her view in a blanket of white. Squinting in an effort to see farther, Percy didn’t see the approaching threat. Everything was so quiet - the surrounding snow absorbing all sound - that the monsters easily crept up on him.

Percy spun around, just a second too late as a giant grabbed his shoulder and threw him down into the snow several feet away. Wiggling his metal fingers, Percy winced as they creaked, and his leg wouldn’t respond as he floundered in the snow, trying - in vain - to get up.

The monsters were closing in. He was vaguely aware of a vortex opening near him, but could only tell by the loud sound of sand swirling. It was like the ocean - it always was - but not the ocean at the same time. It was a dark ocean, one of sand and grit and shadows, not water. 

Strong hands, with claws and gnarled fingers, wrapped around his arms, dragging him toward the portal. Uselessly, he kicked at them, hands moving out of sync as he tried to swipe at his adversaries. Alas, his sword was lost to the snow, and he entered the portal.

If he thought the snow made everything quiet, it was an overstatement in the space between locations. Nothing made a sound, not even the beating of his own heart, or the breath upon his lips.

* * *

Percy felt nothing as he was dragged further into the darkness. Everything was nothing. That’s what it was like to be in a portal of pure evil. The portals he’d been in before were bright and colourful - still silent, though - and if one didn’t have the correct eye protection, they’d burn out their retinas, but this portal was so dark, it was almost blinding. It was only when he felt the grinding of stone under his boots that he looked up. 

The room they’d entered was an ominous one; that was the only way to describe it. It was a torture chamber of some kind, with a single chair in the middle, decorated with heavy, ancient-looking chains and painted with dried blood. Weird, runic symbols were carved deep into the stone and glowed faintly under the gore, but just barely managed to peek out from under the deep red substance.

They pulled him toward the chair, and that was what reignited Percy’s spark. He struggled, harder than ever, against the strong grip of the dracaena, but it was no use. They tossed him down into the chair, only giving him the chance to turn around in it before grabbing him again and strapping him down.

Shackles of iron closed around his ankles, wrists and forehead. Immediately upon their placement, the runes glowed brighter, and he felt his powers draining. Even his strength was sapped, and he found himself unable to move even a pinky.

_ “There must be some weak points somewhere,” _ he thought to himself, struggling to move his eyes as he scanned the contraption. They dropped as they swivelled back and forth, not helping in his search for a way out. His plan of escape was short-lived as the door opened, emitting one person as the dracaena exited.

He looked up to meet the eyes of his would-be torturer, and his jaw dropped. It was  _ Him _ . The Great One. His mentor, hero, trainer,  _ everything _ that made him who he was today. He knew it was possible, had prepared for it, in fact, but… that made it no easier to believe the truth. At the same time, though, as Percy looked closer, it  _ wasn’t _ his mentor, nor his hero. He looked different, in a way that made Percy unable to recognize the man he’d thought of as his father.

“Perseus Jackson,” he said, voice the same as ever, if only deeper and more gravelly. “There is no escape for you, as there wasn’t for all others who came before you, in this room. Your guardian friends have already fallen to my will, as shall you, eventually. They serve me, and me alone, now.”

“But, sir-!” Percy protested. How could the Great One betray him like this? How could he go against the very morals that he taught them -  _ preached _ to them? Percy closed his eyes, unable to face the truth. He didn’t  _ want _ to face the reality that was unfolding around him. He knew it was a possibility. It could happen, but… he didn’t want to even entertain the thought that his master and mentor of so many years was the one responsible. He just hoped that he held out long enough…

A clawed hand grabbed his face and panic set in, the sharp points dug deep into the flesh of his cheeks as he began to struggle relentlessly, only succeeding in drawing his own blood to run down his face. The effort only gained fresh pain erupting from his wrists as he pulled against the shackles, so when it became too much for him, he ceded. 

The Great One laughed, letting go and taking a step back.

“Who really are you,  _ Great One _ ?” Percy asked, a deep scowl on his face. He knew his name - all of them did - but only if the Great One himself said it aloud could they wrap their tongues around the word. It was a powerful enchantment that he placed upon all who followed him - for fear of any traitors who would spill his true identity to the world of lesser beings. He needed the Great One to say that name. Percy’s plan would only work if he could speak it aloud.

“You already know who I am, little one.”

“Remind me,  _ master _ ,” Percy replied with a snarl. He was no longer fighting with physical force, but his mind pushed back forcefully against any mental probing or mind games.

The Great One smirked. “I am the all-powerful. The one who came from nothing and created everything. I am not your worshipped being of chaos; those foolish mortals know nothing of creation. It was  _ I _ who created all. It was  _ I _ who is meant to rule this universe! Remember my name, little one, for your ears may only hear this once. I am Iago!”

Percy smiled - though it was so small, so subtle, that not even Iago noticed it in his glorious, gloating announcement. “Iago…” Percy said, feeling the enchantment take a hold. Not Iago’s enchantment, but his own. His plan was nearly complete. Now, there was only one last thing to do…

“I still shall never serve you. You are no longer the man who held my undying loyalty.”

Iago only laughed maniacally, then gestured toward the door. Two of my guardian friends - brainwashed friends - came in with a large bowl. Or, at least, it seemed like a large bowl.

“I see that the only way to get to you is to break you. I suppose that will be entertaining,” Iago spoke softly. “Then, once you’ve broken so far beyond who you are, I will shape you into what you are to become. I will remake you to my liking.”

With a strange tool clutched in his hand, he approached.


	9. Something Isn't Right...

***Third Person Point of View***

The moment the argument in the throne room gave one moment of pause, Artemis exercised her right to leave the room - along with Apollo and Poseidon - so that she may check on how her guardian, Percy, was faring. She was  _ done _ . Absolutely  _ done _ with her family. With everyone. Everywhere. Annoyance radiated off her in intense waves, because as usual, nothing had been resolved or decided during the meeting. It was just a barrage of yelling and rebutting and disagreeing.

Of course, Apollo was as annoying as ever, chatting away with Poseidon - though he didn’t let the sea god get too many words in, she noticed. Apollo’s voice, like a parrot, chattered all the way down the hall, however, as soon as they reached the door, he went into “doctor mode” and that was a momentary relief.

She knocked. “Percy?” she called out, “Are you alright?”

“Are you decent?” Apollo asked for good measure.

No answer.

They opened the door to reveal an empty room in shambles. The bed was untidy; items from the counters were strewn across the floor; the curtains were ripped and nearly torn down from their hangings.

“Percy?” Poseidon asked as they took their first cautious steps into the room.

The hospital gown was in a heap on the floor, and the stack of regular clothes was gone. However, no windows were open, and they would’ve been alerted if he’d used the door. It was like he just… vanished.

Panic took root in Artemis’ heart. Her mind suddenly kicked into overdrive; her thoughts raced as scenario after scenario of Percy being kidnapped and tortured, or waking up and running away, or whatever else could’ve possibly happened to him. Her guardian had been the only one  _ not _ missing. He hadn’t vanished mysteriously like all the others. Oh, how could she have been so blind? How could she have assumed that he would be the only one safe from whatever had snatched them away from under the gods’ very feet?

Now, their enemy finally had what he wanted. He’d taken all of their guardians, for some sick collection - he had the whole set.

They still didn’t even know who this mysterious enemy  _ was _ .

It was only at that moment that she felt the pain that the other gods must’ve been feeling to wash over her. Had they felt the hollowness in their chest? The pain struck deep into their very souls? Could they possibly be feeling the same? She doubted it; She’d known my guardian longer than any of them had theirs. 

She’d cared for him deeper, too.

Quickly, she rushed back to the throne room to inform the other of the most recent development; Poseidon and Apollo were on her tail, nearly stepping on the backs of her heels. Just as she burst in, sending the doors flying from their peaceful stillness and violently against the marble walls, they turned to her, looking quite concerned. However, she did not even have the time to part her lips before another god - one of many minor gods whom she did not know the name of. (Why did her brothers and sister have so many children?)

“My ladies! My lord! They are here! The guardians have returned!” 

In that moment, any words that Artemis had to say were forgotten as the entirely of the Olympian council rose from their thrones and launched across the hall to the large double doors. Passing the grand statues out front, they made their way down the fair golden streets of Olympus.

The Guardians were standing in the courtyard, huddled together like sheep. Joy buzzed in the air as hordes of gods, goddesses, satyrs and nymphs gathered around them, in awe. It was like they were a mirage; no one believed that they were real, but still hoped for the salvation which they represented. Of course, they’d escaped their enemy, and therefore must know of a plan in how to defeat him - or her.

Each god took in the visage of their guardian - Hephaestus was saddened and confused to no see his own guardian - Korinna - amongst them. Where could she have gone? Had she not escaped? His heart thudded quicker in his chest, hope wavering like a candle flame in a gentle breeze. His misshapen eyebrows furrowed on his scorched forehead.

Artemis, too, searched the group, eyes not catching those of her own guardian. She could not see Percy anywhere.

* * *

_ Percy was struggling in his chair, wiggling his wrists in the restraints. Screams snuck past his lips, betraying his strong resolve as the torturer plucked off his fingernails slowly, one by one. Blood dripped in gruesome streams from his hands before Iago came forward, each time, to heal them. He would only do it once Percy had crested the peak of his agony, only for his fingernails to return, to be plucked once again. _

_ His breath came in heavy pants, clawing at his lungs like a ravenous beast as the torturer finally stepped away. _

_ “Will you join me, now?” Iago asked. _

_ Percy glared up at him. A sound not unlike a snarl rumbled from his chest, then he spat at his keeper’s feet. “Never! I won’t submit to the likes of you! Ever!” _

_ Iago pressed a hand to Percy’s head until the latter’s eyes rolled back. He let out a shriek as bright lights and images flashed before his eyes. A light nothingness then settled over his mind; it almost felt nice, before he saw an image of Artemis as she slowly faded from the depths of his memory. He pulled himself closer to her - fingers clasped tight to the edges of his memories. With one sharp tug, he was back to himself. _

_ “Your cheap tricks won’t work on me.” _

* * *

None of the guardians moved to embrace their charges. They didn’t smile. They didn’t laugh. They didn’t even blink. The happy buzz slowly vanished, to be replaced by an uneasy murmur of confusion. What was wrong? Was there some sort of trouble? Soon, the other gods, too, noticed the absence of Korinna.

“What is my guardian?” Hephaestus asked, his tone bordering on desperation.

“And mine?” Artemis questioned.

The guardians did not answer, only stepped aside to allow a single figure to step forward from the center of their huddle.

* * *

_ Staring into the eyes of the monster was not something that Percy would ever willingly do, but in this situation, he would make an exception. He certainly did not want to look at his torturer, who was currently carving a delicate pattern into his chest. At this point, he did not even react to the pain. _

_ “Nothing you can say or do will make me serve you. I serve only one being - the goddess I have sworn to protect. That is an oath until death and I will honour it with my heart and soul!” he declared, keeping his gaze level with his jailer’s. _

_ Iago just smiled. “We’ll see about that, young man.” _

_ His gaze turned to the door, and Percy followed it, seeing the door open. Korinna walked in; her eyes could have been marbles; her movements were stiff. _

_ A chair appeared across from Percy as once again the torturer stepped away, and Korinna sat down, staring at him blankly, her dead eyes looking deep into his soul, but at the same time, were unseeing and unfeeling. _

_ “Korinna! Please, you can fight this! You are not his puppet!” Percy cried out, trying to reach her, but to no avail. Her expression remained as stoic as ever. _

_ “Torture her instead,” Iago ordered his servant. Then, he turned to Percy. “Let’s see how you fare when it is not  _ you _ writhing under my blade, shall we?” _

_ “No!” _

_ Slowly, the torturer moved toward his friend - his sister-in-arms. Iago did the same, leaning down to whisper in her ear, his horrid breath washing over her. “My dear girl, you are released. For now,” he said it just loud enough for Percy to hear as well, and the boy watched in horror as recognition returned to Korinna’s eyes. _

_ Her life returned to her and she inhaled deeply as if brought back from the dead. Well, as good as. She struggled against her bonds, confused, then looked up at Iago with hurt and betrayal in her eyes. _

_ “What is going on, Great One?” she asked. Her eyes scanned the room, landing on the torturer, then Percy, and her face paled. “Percy? What is this? Why is our Lord doing this?” _

_ Percy glared at Iago darkly. “This is not our lord. Nor is he our master. He is the reason for evil in this world, and we must not give in to his will.” _

_ Korinna only stared at him in confoundment. “What?” that was all she could manage to say before the torturer brought his knife to her stomach and carved a line across it, deep enough to hurt, but not to allow blood to gush down her torso. _

_ She screamed, not at all used to the pain. She’d never taken any pain resistance training - Percy knew that, and Iago did, too, which was probably why he’d chosen  _ her _ and not someone else. _

_ “So, Perseus, will you give in to me? Will you allow me to take over your mind and body just to save your precious teammate? Or are you just as heartless as you think I am?” he taunted. _

_ Korinna’s eyes widened in realization, though it was hard to discern under the look of immense pain. Suddenly she understood what was going on. “Percy, don’t! I can take it! You are the strongest of us and you mustn’t give in! I may not understand half of what is going on, but you mustn’t let this monster have you!” She then cried out again and bit her tongue, hoping to spare him of the sounds. Blood dripped over her lips in a gruesome rouge. _

_ Iago merely chuckled. “Brave little one, isn’t she?” he looked at the torturer, who moved on from his knife and was inserting long needles under her fingernails. “Kill her slowly, and make sure she suffers for Perseus’ disloyalty.” he looked at Percy. “Unless, of course, you wish to give in to me.” _

_ “Don’t!” Korinna said through gasps of pure, unadulterated agony. _

_ Percy watched for a few more seconds before giving in. “Stop! Please! I’ll give you what you want! Just don’t kill her!” _

_ Iago smiled. “Very well.” the torturer stepped away with a single swish of Iago’s fingers.  _

_ “First, you must swear to me,” Percy said. _

_ Iago sighed, annoyed. “Fine. I swear to you, on the Void, that I will not lay a finger on her.” then, he stood in front of Percy and replaced his fingers on Percy’s temples. _

_ The lights flashed in his mind once more, but this time, he did not resist. He willingly gave himself over to oblivion, allowing himself to float in the bright expanse of endless whiteness. His memories vanished, and he smiled, for once in his life, completely unburdened. _

_ Korinna watched in horror as something in Percy’s eyes died. The shine was just...gone. Their empty gaze locked on her face, and a tear slipped down her cheek.  _

_ Iago snapped his fingers and Percy’s shackles fell away, as did Korinna’s. “Kill her!” he barked the order as if he’d planned it all along. _

_ With a wicked grin, Percy stood; a dagger was suddenly in his hand, the serrated blade gleaming in the dim firelight of the torches. He walked toward Korinna with a new purpose - an expression that elicited horror from all who looked upon it caressing his face.  _

_ Korinna shrieked. “Percy! No, what are you doing?” She looked at Iago, hatred darkening her eyes. “You’ve broken your deal,” she said. _

_ Iago just gazed ahead with a bored expression. “My dear, I never once said I wouldn’t have you killed. All I had promised him was that  _ I _ wouldn’t kill you and I am not killing you. He is.” Then, a sick chuckle bubbled up from his throat.  _

_ Percy began slowly, by dragging the sharp blade down from her earlobe to her chest. The wound was shallow, and silvery blood trickled out lazily through the tears in her uniform. Down her back, he carved Iago’s name so that she may never forget the madman who would be her imminent demise - even in the afterlife. Each cut was a little deeper, a little sharper, and finally, she couldn’t hold back her screams any longer. _

_ He ran his finger across her wounds swiftly, then brought the stained fingertips to his mouth, licking the blood. “Yum.” _

_ Finally, like a cobra striking its prey, his hand darted forward to grasp her hair, pulling her head back almost painfully far. With the knife, he dug into her chest, then pulled her still-beating heart from her body. The last thing she saw was the blank expression on Percy's face as he took a bite of it. Then, Iago’s smile and everything went blank. _

_ In Percy’s mind, everything suddenly came crashing down upon him. He was no longer caressed by the beautiful white space, no longer cushioned by its embrace. No. He was back in Iago’s torture chamber, Korinna’s dead body before him, and her detached heart clenched tightly in his fingers. _

_ He couldn’t move - his body didn’t respond. He watched as the life left her eyes and inside, he was screaming - he was wailing - but without, nothing worked. He wanted nothing more than to rip Iago limb from limb, but he could not, for his body was no longer his own. Against every spark of his will, his body moved, bowing before its new master. And, as if he could see the inner turmoil that Percy felt, Iago laughed darkly. _

* * *

The figure was Percy. His hood fell down around his face, stark white and still soaked in blood, in wake of Korinna’s death. There was nothing but glass in his eyes, and Iago’s evil grin had formed on his face, all teeth.


	10. Gone for Good?

***Third Person Point of View***

How could this be? Surely, it was their enemy who drove their guardians’ actions, as no hint of recognition flashed in their eyes nor in their hearts. And it seemed that Percy - their protectors’ leader and the strongest among them - had succumbed as well, so just how strong was this enemy of theirs? Who was he, really? The mysterious being who had sent them their companions all those centuries ago, and now in the modern-day? The one who’d trained such skilled warriors. If so, what else had he done to them during their time in limbo?

The gods shuddered to think upon the horrors that he’d cast them through.

Percy’s face was cold. His body was there, but his presence - the warm and wonderful aura he radiated - was gone. A sneer marked his lips, curving down his jaw with shark’s teeth and a hyena’s morbid glee. His eyes stared into their souls as if stealing them away from their physical forms.

Artemis was the first to speak. “P-Percy?” She stepped forward. She could barely bring herself to call him by name, her eyes distracted by the dark, shining blood that coated his fingers; it was obviously still fresh, but couldn’t possibly be his own. “What have you done?”

He cut her off in a voice not his own. “No! What have  _ you _ done?” This voice was deep and gravelly; it sounded unnatural coming from Percy’s mouth. It was a voice of pure evil, and the ruthless ire in his voice made her recoil. “This is all your doing, after all, isn’t it? To summon these poor, wretched souls, stealing away from them any chance of a peaceful afterlife?” he spat the words like poison with a harsh gesture to each of his fellow guardians.

“But they  _ choose _ to fight for us!” Zeus said. He put up a strong front, his voice commanding and thunderous as ever, but within, he was worried for Aikaterine. Would he ever get her back from this monster? She was one of his closest friends and advisors, even after only knowing her for - what was for him - a blink of an eye in the grander scheme of things.

“Do they?” Iago taunted through Percy, “How do you know that they weren’t simply ripped from their journeys across the Styx, to be trained for a position they did not want? All because you  _ gods _ felt the need to have expendable soldiers?”

“If that’s the case, it wasn’t our fault.  _ You _ were the one to take them from the afterlife. We’d all assumed it was willing. Besides, none ever told us that they were unhappy with their positions,” Hephaestus grumbled.

Percy scoffed. “You  _ assumed _ ? You all trusted me, a being that you had never seen, without even knowing my name! I watched over you all for  _ millennia _ , and what do you do with my gifts? You  _ squander _ them! You lead them into battles you do not know how to fight and expect them to defend you from your own  _ idiocy _ !  _ Hundreds _ of souls gone from all existence and yet you summon more, and more, but then, nothing, and now you call upon me for more, but this world of yours has fallen apart at the seams.”

As soon as Percy finished speaking, a vast portal shimmered into existence behind the guardians. Iago emerged, finally showing his true face. “That ends now, for I have had enough of watching from the shadows. This world should be mine, and I will rule it  _ right _ ,” he declared. “I will finally fix this failure of a world you call a kingdom, and I will be  _ worshipped _ for my power. If you do not wish me to take this world by force, I will accept your surrender, but one way or another, this world will be  _ mine. _ ”

Zeus looked to his fellow gods. He certainly did not want to give up his rule, especially to the likes of this new being who'd appeared before them. He knew not to judge by looks, but this man (was he even a man?)’s actions spoke for themselves.

With unanimous looks from each of the others, he turned back to the being, and said, “Never.”

“So be it,” he replied, and the guardians attacked.

Each of the gods, who’d been expecting the attack, immediately fell into battle with their own charges, though Hephaestus was caught in the middle of the battle after Percy easily knocked him aside to lunge at Artemis.

As he hit the dirt, Hephaestus turned his misshapen head to the side to see Zeus scuffling with his guardian, Aikaterine, in the dirt. He held her down, not wanting to hurt her, but she was little more than a wild animal under his grip, hissing and spitting as she thrashed. Looking around, Hephaestus saw his brothers and sisters with pained expressions of their own as the darkest parts of their guardians’ natures were unleashed; they were not fighting with skill, but with the pure brute force of untamed beasts. None wanted to hurt their guardians, as they’d been such close companions with each of them, and that relationship was something that could not be replaced - even each relationship with past guardians had been different in some way or another.

“There has to be another way!” he cried, and suddenly, with a single flick of the mysterious being’s hand, the guardians froze. Most were then easily contained by their charges, lifeless mannequins in their grasp. They were all looking up at him expectantly - mere puppets under his control; it was sickening.

The gods looked up as well, confusion taking over the forefront of their minds. What was he planning? Those who’d been on the ground stood as their guardians did. 

Their enemy simply smiled cruelly down upon them. “This  _ is _ another way to stop my attack, but rest assured, you will not like it any more than surrendering to me,” he said.

“What is it?” Zeus demanded, “Tell us!”

“As you may have guessed, I may not directly interfere with your petty battles,” he said. “If I have no warriors, my domineering of your world will be fruitless if I cannot take action against you.”

“What are you saying?” Artemis asked. Percy, who she had just barely been holding her own against in their battle, was standing frozen beside her, a cut across his brow. The blood from his hands was smeared over her skin, making her feel slightly sick.

“To save your world, your guardians must fall by your hands. As you know, guardians may only be killed by their own charge, another guardian, or in defence of their charge. I most certainly think that the latter two are unlikely to happen, don’t you think?” His tone became mockingly cheerful, the grin exposing his ghoulishly white teeth.

As soon as they realized what he meant, horror set in. of course, they’d hoped to be able to  _ save _ their friends - their life companions - but what he was suggesting… surely not. Artemis looked at Percy, and despite his blank expression, she couldn’t help but see an overlapping image of the pain within his soul. She could almost imagine that he was fully aware of what was happening, deep within himself, and could do nothing to stop it. Maybe, somewhere deep inside, he was begging her to end it, to save themselves - he was selfless like that - but she knew she wouldn’t be able to bring herself to, because…

“That cannot be an option!” she shouted. Her tears were thorns in her eyes.

“My dear, that is the  _ only _ option. Either surrender to me or kill your precious  _ Perseus _ !” he snarled.

Zeus’ head hung. In his heart, he knew it was the only way, even if his daughter didn’t want to admit it. “It is the only way, daughter. We must choose the world over ourselves.” With a swift movement, he stabbed Aikaterine through the heart. She fell with little more than a gasp, and the only thing keeping her from collapsing in a heap was Zeus’ gentle grip. “This being does not deserve to stain it with his evil.”

“ _ Evil? _ ” the being burst out. “You call this  _ evil? _ This is  _ justice _ ! I am all-powerful! All-seeing! I am more suited to better this world than you ungrateful  _ wretches _ !” Then, the battlefield was an eruption of motion once again. Zeus quickly moved to help his brother, Poseidon, with Kleopatra. The gods of the sky and sea fought together, back to back, brother with brother, and soon, the guardian of the sea was felled, blood pooling under her body. They moved on.

The two brothers fought alongside their struggling brethren, who, despite the circumstances, still did not have the heart to put a permanent end to their guardians.

Across the field, Artemis and Apollo turned, back to back as Lysandra and Perseus joined together to face them. The twin archers put their greatest skills to use, firing arrow after arrow against their guardians, so focused that they did not even pause to ponder why their two opponents were making it so easy by staying away. The adrenaline in their minds said that their arrows were keeping them at bay, warding them off, but something whispered in Artemis’ ear, telling her that it was planned. Something was up.

There was a single moment that lasted forever, when Apollo used a clear shot, his golden arrow spiralling through the air toward Perseus, only for the dark-haired immortal to twist out of the way at the last moment. The arrow pierced Lysandra through the eye and she choked, blood bubbling through her eyelids before she, too, collapsed to the dirt. The audible thud almost seemed to echo in his hears, despite the raging sounds of battle around him.

Perseus moved away as Apollo froze, unable to comprehend what he’d just done.

After her death, Iago called the guardians to retreat once more. His plan - no matter how it seemed - was working out perfectly, and he grinned, even as he and his eight remaining followers vanished through the fading vortex.

“This is not over,” he said just before he disappeared from their sight. The three dead were left behind for them to ponder their choices; he knew the way into their minds - and he would succeed, no matter what efforts they may try.

As the rush of battle faded, the gods fell to their knees, feeling unprecedented exhaustion, but also deep anguish. The only way for this new enemy to be defeated was through the deaths of their guardians. It was a pain only brought on by themselves.

How could they have been so selfish? How could they have been so  _ foolish _ ? To trust an ancient being whom they had never encountered, barely acknowledging where their guardians came from or what happened between their deaths and their summons? How many more souls were in his dimension, training endlessly and thoughtlessly, waiting for their moment to be brought back to the cruel world in which their free will was taken from them?

Hephaestus, Poseidon, Zeus, and Apollo had already lost their closest companions, and the others were destined to lose theirs as well. There was no avoiding it. There was no way out this time. No attack could harm this being; he was far stronger than any of them, and it was certain that if he had been able to interfere - to face them himself - they surely would not be still standing. Their entire immortal lives were being brought into question, though. Who was this evil being? Was he even evil, or was their rule as damaging as he’d claimed? Would he truly bring about a new age, apart from the suffering of mortals and immortals alike? Were these twelve lives the cost of maintaining their rule of this world? Did they really have the right to willingly sacrifice the souls they’d pulled back from death - who would vanish forever - just to send this new villain away until the next one came along?

For once, not even Athena had the answers. Her mind was working overtime, the gears almost physically embodied over her head, but nothing came. His word was law. If there was no other way than to kill their guardians one by one, surely, that was what they must do, no matter how much they disliked the idea. Until she, or anyone else, could conceptualize an alternative, they had no other options.

They would have to kill their guardians.


	11. The Sacrifice Play

***Third Person Point of View***

Artemis paced back and forth in her room at Camp Half-Blood. She and her hunters (with much protest) had taken a break from their travels to stay in the camp during this war. She knew they hated it - and the campers weren’t too happy, either - but it was the safest place for them right now. There was strength in numbers, and though she didn’t exactly want to admit it, her hunters were low in that prospect.

Looking out her window, Artemis saw nothing but stone bricks, strengthened by wooden supports. Before, she could look out into the depths of the forest; in the depths of the night, she’d been able to see shadows of the nocturnal animals running through the trees, hunting for their food in the darkness of the night.

They’d started building the wall right after their new enemy had disappeared with their remaining guardians. That was a few days ago, now - twelve to be exact - and the wall was eight feet high and almost spanned the entire camp. It ran along the backs of the cabins, blocking off the trees (including the one that Percy used to perch in whenever they stayed at camp). It fenced off the beach, too, and to get to the sand, one would have to unlock the heavy iron gate’s twelve locks and push it open - no one went to the beach these days.

That is… no one had any time for fun these days. The campers were either training or building, building or training. They’d sleep less, eat less. Everyone was on edge, and most didn’t even know why.

She sighed. The gods had been on edge ever since the short battle against those who they thought were their closest companions. They’d immediately contacted Chiron to begin laying defences around the camp and to train his students harder than they’d ever trained before. Even their children’s trainer was in the dark about what was really going on, but even the youngest of the demigods could infer that they were at war. Against whom, not even the gods knew.

Since then, tensions only grew. Her own hunters spent all hours of daylight in the archery field - some had even set up camp so that they could keep shooting deep into the night (any harpies who interrupted them were quickly and efficiently shot down). 

At this point, they were just waiting for the next attack to come, even though no one knew who or what they were fighting. 

And as much as the campers were preparing physically, the gods were preparing emotionally. They would have to kill their guardians, after all - kill someone who was closer than a best friend, the closest relationship gods ever had because they knew it wasn’t permanent unless they did their best to keep it so. Their lives weren’t on a clock like the mortals her family mingled with, but they weren’t eternal. Just the thought of killing Percy sent daggers through her heart and soul. Maybe the closest she could imagine was killing one of her own hunters - who were like sisters to her.

She knew that the campers were trying very hard to figure it all out, though. She could see it in the scrunching of their eyebrows whenever she or any of the other gods walked amongst them. Perhaps they couldn’t piece together everything, but the gods were scared and sad, to say the least, and that made the campers nervous.

***First Person Point of View ~ Annabeth***

Swords clashed loudly. There were more campers training now than I’d ever seen before in the arena at camp. I’d been a camper for more than twenty-six years, and yet I’d never seen anything like this before. 

The classes had doubled in size, even though our number of incoming campers hadn’t grown. I knew the reason for this, though. The gods were scared. Artemis and her hunters were here - for good it seemed, because they’d stayed for twelve days now, and hadn’t left the archery field unoccupied since they’d arrived. The Apollo kids had taken to shooting in the volleyball courts, seeing as no one was playing any games lately.

“Seems unreal, don’t you think?”

I turned to see Malcolm walking up. He stopped at the top of the hill overlooking the arena next to me. His eyes had aged ten years in these last twelve days, and the sigh that came from his mouth was that of a tired old man. 

“Yes,” I agreed.

“How is your son? Anthony, right?”

“Anthony is fine.”

“How old is he now?”

“Seven.” From my clipped answer, Malcolm fell silent.

He should know that I’d acquired a distaste for small talk since Percy died. Anything and everything had reminded me of him, and even though we’d thought he was a traitor, I still cared about him deep down in my heart. Then, when I met Chris, my now-husband, everything changed. He didn’t make me engage in small talk, which was a relief, but he brought light back to my life in a way that few others had before. He didn’t force me to do anything I didn’t want, but he coaxed me out of the shell I’d withdrawn into and broke down the high walls I’d built around myself. 

“Sorry. I just don’t know what to say in times like these. It’s been so tense; it’s like everyone is just waiting for the other shoe to drop,” he finally said.

I didn’t even spare him a glance as she looked back down at the campers as they trained. Her son - even at the tender age of seven - was down there and parrying with the best of them; he was well trained in swords and daggers, having been born and raised at the camp. Chris was in front of him, and father and son practised together, mirroring each others’ moves.

Then, I turned to see some of Chris’ brothers and sisters at the wall, reinforcing the sections around the forest. It was still new, but with the Romans’ ingenuity in architecture, we’d quickly been able to erect a barrier wall around the interior of our camp.

“It feels more like an army camp than a summer camp,” I told him.

He sighed again, and I guess it was the only thing keeping him from speaking with all of the nervous energy in his body. While I fell silent in times of stress, Malcolm always seemed to talk more. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him nodding.

“I’m going to help train some of the campers. That group over there looks like they need some tips,” I said, already moving to walk down the hill.

“Okay. I’ll just… um… supervise the building of the wall!” he called after me, stuttering.

* * *

The sound of the conch was what woke me the next morning, and I was immediately on my feet. Next to me, Chris jolted awake as well, though with less adrenaline as I did. I was a thirty-three-year-old demigod and have been on scores of quests outside of Camp Half-Blood’s barriers, and I didn’t get to be where I am by being negligent. The three rings of the conch meant attack!

“Stay with Anthony!” I told him, “We’re under attack!” 

He didn’t even get the chance to answer before I ran out of our bedroom and strapped on some armour in record time. I parted from our personal cabin - a new addition to Camp Half-Blood for the adult campers - only to join dozens of other campers, most already strapped into armour and holding their weapons of choice aloft, muscles tense.

I reached the wall and quickly scaled the staircase into one of the watchtowers.

“What are we looking at?” I asked the guard there. 

She was already talking to another senior camper, but turned to me just as quickly and relayed the message that she “didn’t know” what it was.

“Then why did you sound the alarm?” I demanded aggressively. How could she have possibly rung it if nothing was wrong? Did she  _ want _ the entire camp to have simultaneous heart attacks?

“But I  _ didn’t _ ring it!” she insisted. 

I paced around the small room in frustration. “Then who did?” Just as I turned back to the girl, I reared back; she was gone. So was the other camper. In their place was one of the guardians: Aphrodite’s, I believed. What was his name again? Kallius?

“What’s going on?” I asked him. He was just staring, standing very still in front of me; it was starting to get a bit unnerving. I might have even shivered, sensing deep down that something was wrong, but maybe I was tired because, on the surface, I felt that nothing was off.

“Nothing,” he said. “Nothing is going on. Come with me.”

That was when I felt the skepticism sink in. Aphrodite’s guardian had never even so much as looked at me. Why would he need me to follow him? 

On the outside, I gave no reaction, but within, I was trying to calculate whether to follow him or not. On one hand, it might be a trap, though I’d never felt any threat from the gods’ mysterious guardians. However, on the other hand, I would never discover what he wanted to show me - if he wanted to show me anything at all.

There was only one way to find out, so I followed him. He led me down the spiral staircase to the ground level, but instead of going into the camp, we went out.

Wait-

How could he have known about the secret passage?

He brought me out into the forest. The trees were dark and tall around us, like how they usually were, but there was something a little extra in the woods that morning. Something… foreboding. I only realized this in hindsight, because as I was walking, I was more focused on trying to figure out just  _ what _ he wanted to show me. I knew this was probably a  _ very _ bad idea; we were in the middle of a mystery - the alarm had been rung, and people were vanishing, but… they could handle whatever without me. I  _ needed _ to find out what was going on with the guardians. Something was just… off… about them since the moment they arrived on Earth - I could feel it. And  _ I _ would be the one to figure it out.

***Third Person Point of View***

The campers, awoken suddenly by the alarm ringing throughout the camp, were hovering in the fields with their weapons held aloft, confusion overtaking them. Where was the threat? They could neither see nor hear anything wrong, and the alarm had stopped almost as quickly as it had started. 

“I saw Mrs. Chase go into the tower,” one camper murmured to his friend.

“Yeah? When?”

“Earlier, but she hasn’t come out yet. What d’you think is going on?” he asked again.

Nico di Angelo stepped forward, his husband Will by his side. He held a hand up in the air, aided by his lanky height causing him to tower above the younger, smaller campers. “Stay calm! Obviously, we’re not in any immediate danger but keep alert. The alarm must’ve been rung for one reason or another, even if it’s a false alarm.”

Just then, one camper - dressed as a guard for the night shift - ran up to them, “Mr. di Angelo! Mr. di Angelo!” 

They both turned to him.

“Seven people appeared outside the wall! It’s the guardians!”

“We’ll meet with them,” Will said, and they followed the guard back to the wall’s gate. Surely, the guardians had heard about their alarm and were there to help, right? 

Nico stood in front of the wall, allowing the guard to open the small, narrow window in the gate. Indeed, he saw the guardians - though only seven of them, which was strange - standing there in full battle armour; they looked ready to fight an army. They stood tall and aloof, though their faces were blank and serious (as usual) with an air of professionalism that Nico felt was very familiar. They truly were warriors trained to perfection. No wonder the gods trusted them with their immortal safety.

However, without explicit instruction, he could not order for the gate to be opened, in case of deception. How did they even know that it was the guardians and not this mysterious new enemy of theirs? This could be a Trojan Horse, and if these demigods were good at anything, it was learning from their past - mostly through first or second-hand experience.

“Are you here to help or to harm?” he called.

“Help, of course! We heard the alarm and thought you’d need some assistance!” one cried back. It was Percy.

Nico frowned. His voice sounded… different. It wasn’t what he remembered, but… it  _ had _ been fifteen years since they’d been close, and they hadn’t really spoken since he returned to life. It  _ looked _ like him, even with the new Hephaestus-made prosthetics on his leg and arm. 

Percy flashed his signature award-winning bright smile, and Nico felt his heart flutter a little. He loved Will, of course (why else would he marry him?) but there would always be a part of him that still cared about Percy in some way. That smile was a reminder that, even though it had been well over a decade, Percy was still the same underneath. He was still a teenager by looks, but having confirmation that the inside also stayed the same was reassuring to Nico.

Surely, no one could exactly mimic Percy’s smile perfectly. It  _ had _ to be the real him.

Nico was about to call for the gate to be opened when he paused. Will, whose hand was entwined with his, clenched tighter. “Nico,” Will hissed in his ear lowly. “How did they hear the alarm if they weren’t here? And how would they get here so quickly?”

“They can teleport, Will. Don’t worry so much.”

“You know I worry, but… something doesn’t feel right. Wouldn’t they just teleport into camp directly if they came from Olympus?”

“Maybe they were just surveying the forest for a threat.” Now, even Nico felt a tickle of suspicion on the back of his neck. Why  _ would _ they teleport outside of camp? The gods themselves only enchanted it to keep out enemy threats. And why hadn’t they been here earlier? The gods had visited the camp many times in the past twelve days while they were preparing for war. Why hadn’t their guardians been with them? They could have helped to train some of the younger campers, and spar with the senior campers to help brush them up on their skills.

Why now?

“Sorry, Percy,” he settled on. “We can’t let you in. Solidarity and everything. Can’t open the gate for anyone. You know the drill.”

Percy chuckled, and  _ by the gods _ , it was hard not to let him in. He just seemed so genuine. “No problem, Nico. I get it.” Then, like the shutter of a camera snapping, everything changed. Percy’s smile disappeared. His expression grew dark, as did the faces of the other six guardians behind him. They drew their weapons and vanished into the air.

Nico almost stumbled back in surprise at the sudden drastic change. He felt an emotional whiplash ghost over his heart and mind.

Then, the screams began.

Nico whipped around, only to be shoved behind Will. The guardians were in the camp. They’d easily bypassed the barrier and were slaughtering demigods left and right, knocking them to the grass with only cuts and bruises to show for their efforts.

There were suddenly millions of thoughts rushing through Nico’s brain at once. Twice as many neurons began firing to help him - in some way - to understand the complete one-eight that was going on around him. He didn’t even notice that he’d drawn his own weapon until he was blade to blade with Percy.

Will was once again by his side, and several other senior campers joined them to circle around Percy, who was easily countering all of their attacks and even getting a strike or two back at them. He was  _ nothing _ like he’d been fifteen years ago, which didn’t have to be said, but even more than that, he was  _ nothing _ like he was just weeks ago. It was like Percy wasn’t even there, but someone or some _ thing _ else using his body. He could see all around - no blind spots and no weaknesses for them to exploit.

_ What was going on? _ “ _ Father!” _ he called out with his mind,  _ “We’re under attack!” _

His movements were so erratic, so unpredictable, that nothing worked. His blade changed directions mid-swing with such accuracy and grace that it was almost unreal. Nico wouldn’t have believed it if it wasn’t happening right before his eyes, and even then, it was hard to take in.

Every second he could spare he looked around to see how the others were faring, and he cringed to see that they weren’t doing well. Where was Annabeth in all of this? He couldn’t see her, but she wasn’t the type to just sit out a battle - especially one that they were losing so badly. Another peculiar thing Nico noticed was that all of the guardians were using the same style of fighting. Now, for warriors with the same training, this was to be expected, but… that wasn’t what he saw. He saw that they fought  _ exactly _ the same - like they were one mind with many bodies. They were a hive of bees, with no individuality and all working without concern for themselves, but for the success of themselves as a whole. It was something to both prosper to be and fear all the same.

It was only minutes before Nico realized that he and only a few other senior campers were the last ones standing. Sometime during the battle, the gods had shown up, answering his prayer. He could see almost all of them, with the obvious exception of Hestia and a few others who never fought due to a pact of peace.

Artemis had joined their battle against Percy, and relief seeped into Nico’s body as he saw a sneer appear on Percy's face. He thought he could see a bead of sweat appear on the guardian’s forehead as he became wilder in his attacks. He didn’t seem to have any defence in this style, that is until Artemis nearly landed a hit, and he became a wall of force pushing back against her. How could one person advance so quickly that he outfought and outmatched a goddess of combat?

Nico, with the help of the others, was moving closer and closer under Percy’s guard, and just as he was about to land the first blow of their battle, Percy vanished, just like earlier. Nico froze, tensing as he listened, waiting for Percy to reappear… but he never did.

All of the guardians were gone. All but two, who were strewn in the grass, dead. How? How could these elite warriors let two of their own fighters die in battle? Were those two - the guardians of Dionysus and Demeter - sacrifices? He didn’t even know their names (perhaps Demetria… and Darius? Dareios?) Nico didn’t want to say that it had been too easy - because it  _ wasn’t _ \- but like this whole thing, something didn’t feel  _ right _ about the whole thing. He still wasn’t sure what had just happened. Obviously, their new enemy was these guardians and whoever was leading them -  _ controlling them _ . The real question was: were they always planning this? Was their guardianship all a ruse, or was there something more devious in play?

***First Person Point of View ~ Annabeth***

_ Where is he leading me? _

With every step, the weariness grew heavier on my brow as I follow Kallius deeper into the woods. Finally, he stopped and rested a hand on one of the many trees. Then, he turned. His eyes glinted darkly, but only for a moment; it disappeared so quickly that I could almost convince myself that I didn’t even see it in the first place - almost. Something was  _ definitely _ up and it was killing me not knowing. 

“So, we’re here now, in the middle of the forest. What did you want to show me?” I placed a hand on my hip, jutting it out in an obvious display of stubbornness. I wasn’t moving from that spot until he told me just what was going on!

He grinned and it was just bordering on friendly, but just the curvature of it made me lean more toward creepy. “We’re as far as I want us to be,” he said cheerfully. There was something fake about his tone, and my frustration only grew. Before I could demand he tell me everything, he continued: “It’s all going according to plan.”

“What is?”

“My master’s plan. The Great One will rule. The gods will fall.”

There is was. The other shoe - like Malcolm said - had dropped. Their master was planning to take over.  _ He _ was the enemy.  _ They _ were the enemy. How could I have been so blind?

“Why isn’t he already? He brings people back from the dead and no one knows who he is. Wouldn’t he just already be ruling if he was so powerful?” I had to get as much information as I could.

“Of course not. If my master could appear in his physical form on this planet with an army at his disposal, he would rule, but, as it stands, he cannot. Even with all of his power, the ancient laws restrain him.” Kallius stepped closer to me; I retreated the same step. “Only the gods may summon our warriors to Earth, and, like the fools they are, they’ve given us a means for domination. And, with the guardians united-” he said  _ guardians _ with a mocking tone “-he will emerge and the gods will fall.”

“Why are you telling me this? Surely you don’t want your enemy to know your plans,” I replied, shuffling backward. I was getting ready to run, because this was the moment when the bad guy exposed his plan, then killed all witnesses. I wouldn’t be that person.

Kallius grinned again - the same empty grin that contrasted with his blank, lifeless eyes; he was a puppet - perhaps they all were (they  _ were _ undead after all). “I’m telling you because there is nothing you can do. Go ahead, spread the word. The gods have already failed you. He  _ will _ rule, and there is nothing that any of your little friends can do about it.”

My steps became bigger. I was about to take off back to camp. If I could get back to tell them, maybe there was a chance. I didn’t care what he said: we  _ would _ defeat them, like all of the other threats we’ve faced. No matter the odds, we would come out on top, like we always did. Good would always triumph over evil, after all.

“Go!” he said, and I cursed myself for revealing my play so obviously. “Run back to your friends!”

I didn’t like it, but I did as he said. I ran back to camp and found that destruction had reigned.


	12. Division in Allies

***Third Person Point of View***

Annabeth stormed back into camp with one goal in mind - to confront the gods. It was their fault that her friends and family were dying. They brought the so-called “guardians” to Earth in the first place!

“Mother!” she shouted, not even disguising the rage in her voice, even for her own mother.

Many campers - at least the ones left standing after the decimation that obviously took place when Kallius had led her away - turned to her in complete and utter shock. She’d never taken that tone with any of the gods before, especially Athena. What they knew was that she was angry, but the anger Annabeth harboured was equally for the gods as it was for herself. She’d allowed herself to be led away from the camp she was sworn to protect, and because of that, many of her students and friends were severely injured or dead. However… if the gods hadn’t summoned the guardians here in the first place… if they hadn’t opened the gate for the evil to seep through… none of this would have happened.

“What is it, daughter?” Athena turned toward her, confusion knitting her brows together.

“You’ve been lying to us this whole time! Your  _ guardians _ do not truly serve you, but their mysterious master who strives to dominate our world! It’s  _ your _ fault that our campers are dying!  _ Yours _ !” she accused.

“Annabeth-!”

“No! Stop talking! Your blind trust in these guardians was misplaced. You didn’t even know their true purpose, nor where they come from! And beyond that, you kept us in the dark about the whole situation. How can we follow you if you withhold pertinent information from us? How can we trust you to keep us safe?”

“Please, daughter. We were mistaken, we know, but we’re still figuring it out ourselves,” Athena protested. “The guardians-!”

“Mother, don’t call them  _ guardians _ ! They are  _ not _ guardians! They are anything but that! They’ve chosen their path, and you were fooled! You, goddess of wisdom, were a blind fool!” Annabeth’s face was a deep shade of red from the strain of her frustration, and her chest heaved. At her sides, her hands were clenched, knuckles white.

Other demigods, after hearing the exchange, moved from their parents’ sides to stand by Annabeth. Her son, Anthony, ran to her and grasped one of her arms, trying to calm her. Chris stood by her other side, a comforting arm around her waist to show his support for her as he, too, glared up at his mother-in-law.

(Annabeth didn’t know, but during the battle, Anthony had almost died in his efforts to help, so Chris’ own pent-up rage was just barely being held back from breaking the surface.)

Nico sent his father a look of disgust - Hades had the humility to look away, ashamed - before throwing down his Stygian iron sword and assisting an injured, limping Will over to stand at Annabeth’s side as well. Many more followed his example until only a few demigods still stood with the gods.

“Take a look,” Annabeth jeered. “Take a long, hard look. These are your expendable soldiers. The next time you think of sacrificing one of them for your own personal gain:  _ don’t _ . You let your children die because the enemy has been manipulating you and you didn’t even  _ realize _ it.”

Then she, along with all of the other campers, left the gods standing by the wall, shame adorning their faces like delicate trinkets, ready to break into shattered tears with the force of the soft breeze.

* * *

“Annabeth was right,” Hephaestus said with a heavy sigh. “Those children’s deaths were our fault entirely. There is no way for us to deny it.”

Athena, in an action completely against her usual behaviour, was slouched in her throne, in silent contemplation.

“But we had no way to know!” Zeus tried. He didn’t want to believe that they were the cause of everything wrong that had happened. They were what was  _ good _ , and the enemy embodied  _ evil _ . That was how it was supposed to work. If they weren’t the “good”, then what were they, and how could they justify their rule? Maybe it  _ would _ be for the best if someone else ruled Earth - after their countless failures.

“We  _ weren’t _ wrong, though!” Artemis protested. “It was all real! I just know it. This enemy is an ancient being, older than us all, and obviously, he has been planning this since before the Titans’ rule. We had no way of knowing his true intentions, and the guardians probably didn’t either. Their loyalty is still there, underneath his mind control. He is manipulating them just as much as he was  _ us _ .”

Apollo sent her a mournful look. “How can you know that, sister? I know Percy was your guardian, and that he came back, but how could you  _ possibly  _ know that it was really him the entire time and that his body wasn’t just a puppet for that monster?”

She glared. “I don’t care if you’ve all lost hope,” she scanned every one of them with her eyes, “But I’m not going to give up on him. I’m going to find a way to fix this, just you watch.” With a quick and sure foot, she stood and spun on the spot, vanishing from the throne room.

She could not ignore the power surge radiating from Earth. Obviously, Percy was  _ somewhere _ , and if it was the last thing she did before their latest enemy took over from her discouraged family, she would find him. She needed to know the truth, even if it was ugly because she couldn’t let her immortal life end before learning if their whole relationship had indeed been a ruse the entire time - because it felt  _ real _ , so real, and she couldn’t ignore it.

As she thought, she found him at the source. It seemed that he’d taken a page out of any bad horror film’s book, because he was waiting for her in the middle of nowhere, deep in a shadowy forest. With a snap of the reigns, she guided her chariot from the star-filled skies and into the clearing. She felt the dirt under her bare feet and knew that Percy had taken a great risk in meeting her here. This was the wild - her element - and she didn’t care if he had some treacherous strategy: this just  _ had _ to be influenced by her companion; to her, this was definitive proof that he was still in there somewhere.

“Milady,” he said with a shallow, respective bow. It was mockingly similar to his usual greeting, and if his tone wasn’t permeated by a dark, malicious intent, she would’ve thought that nothing was wrong, and it was just another day before this whole fiasco began.

“Perseus.  _ If _ that’s who you are still.”

His grin lost a hint of its sanity, gaining a maniacal air. “Perseus isn’t here right now. You may call me the Great One.”

“I’ll stick with  _ the enemy, _ for now, thank you very much,” Artemis replied with a biting lilt to her voice. “Then, maybe I’ll change that to  _ the loser _ after we defeat you - as we’ve done with all others who stood where you now stand.”

Instead of being intimidated by her challenge, Percy - or the man controlling him - just laughed. “You say that now, little one, but you have never faced an opponent like me before. I will always be ten steps ahead of you like I am now, and my rule is inevitable, as is your failure.”

* * *

The camp was in a dilemma. Of course, the campers had segregated themselves from their parents, who still hadn’t left the camp in hopes of reconciling the errors of their ways with their children (to no avail).

Even Athena, who always had a logical explanation behind all of her actions, could not appeal to the demigods’ sense of loyalty and forgiveness. Truly, it was the worst place for them to be in the face of war.

The goddess of wisdom herself had secluded herself to a room in the Big House, pacing briskly between the window and the door whilst avoiding the large canopy bed draped in red velvet. She hadn’t even paused to think that she’d wear a path in the plush carpet, which was indeed happening under her Greek sandals.

That was why, when seconds later, a sudden knock on the door surprised her. Of all the people to enter the room while she was thinking, Athena couldn’t believe her eyes when one of Aphrodite’s heels (showing off her perfect and precariously painted toes) entered through the small gap and was quickly followed by the goddess herself.

“Aphrodite, what brings you here? Surely there must be something better you could be doing with your time?” Athena asked, as formal as ever.

“Nothing, darling - absolutely  _ nothing _ is more important than this!” the love goddess insisted in her usual, frivolous way. Then, she met Athena’s eyes and everything about her turned serious. 

A jolt of interest lashed through Athena. The swan in front of her was always at the peak of her beauty, but now, it seemed she’d ruffled a few feathers. Athena almost couldn’t process whether she could see a hair out of place on her fellow Olympian.

“Kallius was here,” she whispered conspiratorially. Her eyes darted back and forth. 

Athena’s eyebrows furrowed. Of course, he’d been here! They’d all been at the camp  _ somewhere _ during the attack. “Wha-?”

“We mustn’t speak here!” Aphrodite interrupted. “The walls have ears!” Her delicate hand grabbed Athena’s with a force the wisdom goddess didn’t know they possessed and dragged her from the room. Together, they snuck from the Big House and teleported from the camp to what Athena could only recognize as the inside of Aphrodite’s temple on Olympus.

“Why must we be here?” Athena asked, quite peeved that  _ she _ was the one asking questions instead of answering them, for once. “And how long are you planning on taking? There is a meeting soon - one which I must attend to answer my father’s questions.” Her eyes followed Aphrodite, who was uncharacteristically scampering around, closing blinds and doors to seal them in.

With a sigh, she seated herself on one of the shiny leather couches and just waited for the other goddess to finish and join her. Finally -  _ finally _ \- Aphrodite seemed done, and Athena spoke again, “ _ Now _ can you tell name what was so important-?”

Athena didn’t finish her question. How could she? Because Aphrodite had opened a door - a small closet that Athena hadn’t even seen - and revealed two figures that Athena thought she’d never see peacefully again. Her jaw dropped open.

Nereus and Kallius stepped into the light, looking pained but alright. The blank looks in their eyes - the ones that had haunted the depths of Athena’s mind since they’d changed sides - were gone, replaced by a spark that Athena knew well.

Nonetheless, she felt fury well up in her chest, and she lurched forward from the couch. “How dare you show up here?” It seemed that her daughter’s rage had seeped into her. How could these traitors just appear and expect to be able to talk after what they’d done? Some of her children were  _ dead _ because of them - because of her blind trust! She should have known that something wasn’t right with them, even all those millennia ago when they’d first arrived, offering their services from a mysterious being.

“Please, milady,” Nereus said, “We beseech you, you must listen-!” He suddenly winced at his own words as Athena’s face darkened.

“There is  _ nothing _ that I must do, especially if it comes from your treachery-poisoned lips!” she growled, seething.

Aphrodite’s hands wrapped around her arm, stopping her from taking another threatening step towards the two traitors. “Please! Athena, just hear them out! They aren’t under his control anymore!”

“Control?” Athena scoffed. “They  _ chose _ his side! They are  _ traitors _ to Olympus! I can’t expect an airhead such as yourself to understand-!”  _ Smack! _ Athena stopped short, shock sprawled across her face, accompanied by a quickly-darkening handprint.

“Don’t talk to me like that!” Aphrodite’s entire personality had flipped upside down. “I may not be a master strategist like you, but I have skills and talents that you could only  _ dream _ of! I can read their emotions - their hearts - and I know that this rush of guilt, loyalty, and regret is  _ real! _ It’s not the emptiness that I felt before when they first came back as our enemies. I  _ know _ that they were being controlled, and if you just get off your high horse and just  _ listen _ for once, maybe you’d realize that, too!”

For the first time in her life, Athena was at a loss. She wasn’t used to feeling that she was inferior - that she’d been  _ wrong _ \- but she could appreciate the fact that she didn’t know everything, especially when it came to how people  _ felt  _ rather than  _ thought _ . If there anything she wasn’t, it was a fool, and so she would listen to the other goddess. She turned to the two guardians.

“Explain yourselves, and make it quick.”

“Thank you, milady.” Nereus bowed deeply.

Kallius began, “He took control of us - it’s been trained into us from the moment he takes us from the afterlife. We don’t want it, but it’s all been a part of his big plan. I don’t know how we were freed from it - maybe negligence in his taking control of us, but we need to tell you - there is only  _ one _ way to truly defeat him.”

Athena huffed. “We know this already. You all must die because only you twelve were summoned and could travel between his dimension and ours.”

Nereus shook his head violently. Actually, his whole body seemed to be shaking violently, and a nervous twitch sent his head twisting to the side every few seconds. “No, milady. That’s not-!” The blank look was back. Nereus stopped twitching, and both guardians froze.

Athena sighed. “They’ve succumbed again.”

“At least we can contain them here,” Aphrodite whispered to her.

Just at that moment, both guardians grinned devilishly and teleported away.

“Now you’ve done it!” Athena exclaimed, shooting a glare her way.

Aphrodite kept the proud grin on her face. “Don’t worry. I thought this might happen so the only place they can teleport out of this room is the last place  _ we _ were…” Her grin suddenly fell into a look of horror. “Oh my gods! The camp!”

When they got back to the Greek camp, everything was in ruins. Well, not really, but there were fires and at least one cabin had already been smashed. Campers were running everywhere - some trying to fight, but most of them were just confused as to what was happening, as they couldn’t see either of the two guardians anywhere. Panic sparked in Athena’s chest when she suddenly saw her guardian -  _ her _ guardian - standing over her grandson’s body.

Anthony was cowering on the ground, just waiting for his death. Her small arms were wrapped around his head, knees tucked into his chest as if it would protect him from the killing machine towering over him.

And Annabeth? Annabeth was across the field, where Nereus had flung her away from her child. There was blood trickling down the side of her head, but she was running, ignoring the pain as her heart raced. Right next to the panic and pain, she felt dread nestle itself into her chest. She wasn’t fast enough. The guardian raised his sword, ready to slice her son to shreds.

She didn’t even feel the throb in her feet as she pressed to go faster. The ground was nothingness beneath her, and the heaviness of her armour vanished. 

The sword came down, but she was still so far away. Her heart stopped - this was it. She was going to lose her son.

By some miracle, the blade was intercepted, and the guardian was thrown back. Annabeth’s jaw dropped as she saw her mother standing above her seven-year-old son with her hand outstretched for him to take. She got there just in time for Anthony to throw himself into her arms; he sobbed into her chest. She wrapped him tightly in her arms.

“I just wanted to help, mama! I wanted to be brave - like you are!”

Annabeth looked to her mother but didn’t even have a chance to thank her before the goddess was gone. She was locked in battle with the guardian -  _ her _ guardian - and by the looks of it, she was winning. Pretty soon, Athena had Nereus on the grass with the tip of her spear at his throat.

“I don’t want to do this, but…” Athena looked back at where Annabeth and Anthony were standing. “...you tried to kill my grandson, and I won’t stand for that.” With tears welling up in her eyes, she shoved the spear down through his flesh until it met the dirt behind him. Blood stained the grass red.

Annabeth’s hard eyes stared down at the guardian’s dead body. That was one. Now, where was the other? Her need only needed to turn slightly to see Aphrodite and her own guardian - the one who’d revealed everything to Annabeth earlier - Kallius. He, too, was easily slain.

Easily? Why so easily? Annabeth’s eyes narrowed. She knew the gods were strong, but how could they defeat their guardians so quickly? It had never been that quick before…

Something was  _ definitely _ going on. Something bad.

* * *

Artemis clenched her teeth.

“Do you honestly believe that we are not fit to rule Earth?” she asked. Honestly, she, herself thought that they hadn’t done the best job since they’d become the dominant immortals, but they’d definitely done better than their predecessors, and she couldn’t imagine anyone else doing any better - especially this new enemy, who - since meeting them - had only shown vicious intent and malicious manipulation.

“Of course, I do!” Perseus snapped - Artemis winced:  _ not _ Perseus; he would never take that tone with her. It was their enemy, the  _ Great One _ , as he wanted to be called, but she would not stoop to that level. “I have watched the world from the dawn of time, always from the shadows, and I have  _ mourned _ for this world. I do admit that you have ruled the longest, and better than those poor excuses for Titans, but you let humans have free reign. They live without fear, without the consequence of their actions, and they are slowly killing this world - and what are you doing to stop it?  _ Nothing _ !” his teeth were bared with rage.

“You are…correct,” Artemis admitted begrudgingly. “Pan has since died, and despite the efforts of the satyrs and I, the mortals have mangled nature. I feel it myself, in my streams, rivers, forests, but I have yet to give up! Like you -  _ better _ than you - I, too, have manipulated from the shadows to better the human race. They are getting better. They are beginning to respect the environment again, and they, too, are making efforts to change it, because, even if the old ways have died and they no longer worship and fear us, they fear the end of their own existence, and I believe that is enough for them to repair the damage they have caused.”

“Your methods are  _ pathetic _ !” he roared suddenly, taking a threatening step forward. “You must be assertive! You must make the mortals fear for their lives  _ now _ , not in some distant future!” Spittle flew from his lips, just barely missing her.

“So we must become like you? We must lie and kill, like the worst of those mortals you hate so much?” she challenged.

Perseus threw his head back and laughed a deep belly laugh. However, it was a laugh without humour and instead had…a much darker tone. “You know  _ nothing _ ! I only kill when it is necessary! I sacrifice pawns to save billions!”

“Pawns? Is that all they are to you?”

“Of course! They have already lived their full, meaningless lives! I bring them back by their choice! They know the terms when I take them from their eternal peace and they choose it! They choose to serve the greater good!”

“Do they now? And did Korinna know her fate when she  _ chose _ to serve the gods? To serve  _ you _ by default? Is that why you had to brainwash them all?”

“Korinna’s death was necessary,” Perseus sneered, finally speaking the words Artemis was waiting for. He was finally giving her confirmation. “Her life was long, and in service for many years, but that means nothing without a meaningful death. She served her purpose, and I let her go.”

“Go to where? Their souls never return to the Underworld once they’ve died. Do they just vanish into nothingness? Is that the fate of all guardians?”

The two were pacing around each other now, and Artemis was entirely tense, just waiting for their battle to begin. She wouldn’t make the first move, not until the right moment at least, but she wanted to see just how long she could keep him talking.

“Her noble sacrifice allowed me to take ahold of Perseus’...” he tilted his prosthetic hand back and forth, clicking his tongue: searching for the right word, “...stubborn mind. It was the only way for Perseus to realize his true purpose.”

“Then why take him? You know his fatal flaw is personal loyalty, and his past with us. How could you possibly think he would help you to overthrow us, despite whatever  _ pure _ intentions you may have?” she taunted.

Perseus grinned. “Perseus has special qualities about him - special abilities that not even you gods can see, but I can. And despite having become the most recent guardian by several millennia, he has already advanced to become my best-trained warrior. I could see his potential, even as he lived. Why do you think I gave him the death he deserved?”

Artemis suddenly froze across from him. Gears suddenly whirred to life in her head. What was the true meaning behind those words? Had this man really been responsible for their actions against him all those years ago? Had it really not just been a wild lapse in their judgement to send one of their best and most loyal demigods to his death?

A spark lit up in Perseus’ eyes as he, too, stopped. “Ah. I see you’ve figured it all out,” he said. “Yes, it was I who set his death into motion. I needed him broken - only then would he join me, and only then could I build him back up into the man you see before you today.” He spread his arms.

“The man I see before me? You mean the poor soul who gave up a life of eternal bliss in Elysium for this sorry existence as a mangled  _ puppet _ ?”

The grin did not stray from his face. “Of course, my dear. After all, what better existence is there than that of a puppet? He can do whatever he wants - whatever  _ I _ want, and he can rest easy knowing that none of it will be his fault. He will be serving loyally without fear of a lapse in judgement. He can rest easy knowing that he is working as just another cog in the machine - to save the mortal realm of Earth.” He suddenly went on a tangent, turning away from her as if lost in his thoughts. “Of course, I cannot be there myself, but through him, I am free to better this world, to prepare it for my inevitable arrival.”

Artemis smirked. Finally, she was getting to some information she could use. His true plan would be revealed to her; all she had to do was play her cards right. “And that is the problem, isn’t it?” she asked. “That is why you aren’t already here? Because you cannot leave your dark and vile dimension?”

Perseus turned back to her sharply - so sharply that she winced at hearing the loud crack of his neck twisting. The glare on his face was apparent, but still, he said nothing.

Artemis resisted a grin; she was getting somewhere. “You’ve been stealing the souls of our heroes for millennia, training them to be in your army. Why not just send all of them and be done with it? Why only the original twelve, or… less so, now that most of them are gone? Why would you waste such valuable soldiers for these meaningless battles? Just to drive a wedge between us and our children? That will never happen because, despite our past mistakes, they will always stand by us - because we are on the side of  _ good _ .”

Perseus suddenly grinned sickeningly again. “You poor, poor, goddess. You’re so simple-minded. That is how I know I will beat you, because, despite your greatest minds trying desperately to work out my plans, you will always be dozens of steps behind. You cannot even begin to comprehend my true plans.”

Then, everything clicked into place. She didn’t know how, or what he’d said in those few, taunting words that linked it all together for her, but suddenly, she understood. It was his plan all along to sacrifice the guardians - for the gods to kill them with their own hands. He needed them for something, and he needed their deaths, but for what?

She clenched her teeth again. There was only one thing. How could she have been so blind? Something about a guardian being killed by the hand of their own charge must’ve triggered something - energy? She didn’t know exactly what, or exactly how, but she knew that this was his plan to bring himself to Earth, and she needed to get back to the gods with this new information before they doomed everything.

Perseus grinned, stepping closer to her frozen form. He must’ve seen the epiphany in her eyes. “You know, you don’t get as much credit as you deserve. I honestly believe that you are the most clever of all the gods - much more so than that idiot,  _ Athena _ . How she gained the title of goddess of wisdom is beyond me, when  _ you _ , my dear, and so much more… _ competent _ .”

Her eyes flickered to his. That could only confirm her theory, which only made it that much more imperative that she returned to the other gods.

“Unfortunately,” he said, finally stepping into her space, “That just means that I cannot allow you to return. You mustn’t warn those pathetic little Olympians of my plans.”

Somehow, she was ready for his sword as he quickly drew and attacked. Their blades locked, and they began to fight.


	13. Dance of Death

***Third Person Point of View***

Neither Annabeth and her son, nor any of the campers, had much of a reprieve after the deaths of the two most recent guardians, Nereus and Kallius, because it seemed that the moment the life left both of their eyes, three more enemies appeared.

The remaining three guardians, aside from the peculiar absence of their leader, Perseus, brought panic to the campers, though also relief as they witnessed their parents, the gods, step up to face their once-companions. Those dead from the carnage rose swiftly in their numbers, littering the floor in brutal slaughter. It was all Annabeth could do as a mother to block her son’s view of the deceased and dying; her hand pressing his head into her chest as she caressed his grimy hair. She hadn’t seen so many deaths since the Titan War.

But she couldn’t afford to look back. The siege kept coming and there wasn’t a second where the remaining guardians weren’t cutting down the campers in cold blood. The gods were fighting their way through, knocking the enemies down only for them to just get back up and keep attacking, keep killing. The first two may have seemed easy enough, but the rest apparently hadn’t gotten the memo. They weren’t going to fall any time soon, it seemed.

They fought - and fought hard, pushing back against their charges, whose reinforced willpower to finally put an end to their most-trusted companions for the sake of their children helped the campers to stand and rush back into battle as well. 

_ ‘If only they hadn’t grown complacent in their training,’ _ Annabeth thought as she ran to get her son to safety. The security of having the guardians around to fight off any threat posed to them led most to laze about the camp, unconcerned with things like honing their swordsmanship skills.  _ ‘How could we have been so stupid?’ _

Now, with the guardians on the opposing side, the campers could not defend themselves against the onslaught of monsters pouring in through the broken border. Discord reigned.

The only relief came from watching the gods taking up arms for them. Annabeth ducked under an arrow, fired from the roof of the Apollo cabin. A few archers perched there and in other high placed around camp. Arrow after arrow whizzed through the air, turning the tide in their favour. The arrows were distractions, of course; aside from taking down the monsters, they misled the three remaining guardians.

However, it wasn’t going to be that easy. These guardians, in direct conflict with their previous, dead, compatriots, were organized and seemed to know exactly where to move to avoid the incoming attacks. Indeed, they proved just how worthy they were in their positions of protecting the gods and their interests. They easily avoided the catapult fire, leading their opponents into traps with jabs and feints.

The air was charged with fear, hanging heavy over the campers’ heads as the guardians slowly advanced, pushing back their Olympian enemies.

Hermes’ guardian, Galene, flicked her wrist to the side with a malicious smirk tugging at her lips. Her dagger glinted with the blood already spilled on its blade, and with a swift swing of her arm, it was buried to the hilt in a camper’s chest. She skipped over, pulled it free, and deflected an arrow without missing a beat, all the while keeping the sick grin on her face. There was blood in her teeth, and Hermes shivered.

He shuddered at the power of his inner turmoil, rolling like a monsoon in his chest. He felt himself struggling in an emotional tug of war, but there was no hesitation as she approached a second camper. He couldn’t let her kill anyone else, because even if it was all a charade to gain their trust, the Galene that he knew and loved would not want to kill anyone. This fraud would  _ not _ slander his memories of her - he wouldn’t allow it.

He switched the grip of his own dagger in his hand and rushed forward. Suddenly appearing in front of her, no one saw his dagger move, but it was suddenly in her chest. She choked, gasped, and fell, blood already coating her lips as she continued to gag, struggling to breathe. He had tears in his eyes as he caught her, lowering her to the ground.

“H...mes…” A wave of darkness washed through the back of her eyes. It moved from top to bottom, then exited her mouth in the form of a black cloud, which dissipated soon after meeting sunlight.

“...What?” the god of speed breathed. His wide eyes searched hers, even as the light faded from them. She was just smiling up at him, tears and blood dripping down her face.

“Thank you…”

As she took her final breath, it all became clear. The battlefield around him almost materialized back into existence around him as he let go of her body.

“They really were brainwashed…” He looked up just in time to block an attack from a pouncing hellhound. He swung it aside with just a fist as the weight of the sky was lifted off his shoulders. Atlas had his sympathies. A knot tighter than any mess ever before formed a stone within his heart as he left her cold form in the bloody grass.

Subconsciously, he registered that his family was fighting the remaining two guardians. It was easy for him; she hadn’t been expecting him to fight back; she’d been counting on his hesitation when there was none. The others wouldn’t make that same mistake. He watched them in mourning because even if he now knew for certain that they weren’t in control of their own actions, he could see no other way to keep them from killing his and the other gods’ children. There was nothing behind their eyes - he could see that now. They were nothing but the mindless slaves their puppet master had made them into.

The only way for this fight to end, for them to save their children, was for the guardians to die, and the gods would have to do it.

* * *

Artemis was a mess of flashing lights and tangled feet. She was trying to get away, to teleport with enough distance between them to use her bow, but her efforts were for naught. She wouldn’t beat him in hand-to-hand combat and he knew it, so he wouldn’t let her escape. It was her knives against his sword, and he was clearly at an advantage with the reach his weapon gave him.

They’d done this dance hundreds of times before, and yet this time, it felt real. It  _ was _ real, because this time, Perseus really was trying to kill her. 

His left hand clutched hers like they were in a waltz, never letting her move more than a few feet as he teleported with her throughout the dense forest. The insane grin didn’t leave his face, even as hers slipped into one of frustration concentration; it was like he wasn’t even trying, but then again, he probably wasn’t. In all her millennia of godhood, she’d never seen one as skilled with a sword as Perseus, and he’d only gotten better during his training with the Great One.

“Your feeble plans are useless. You already know that you cannot win, so why keep this up? The others are fighting as we do,” he told her. “You are not at that pathetic camp to protect its weaklings.”

She only snarled in response. Words would not form on her tongue because deep down, she knew that he was right. How could she fight an immortal being older than the universe itself? How could she bring herself to challenge the person she’d festered such strong feelings for? She couldn’t kill him anyway; that would be playing right into the Great One’s hands, but how could she get away to warn the other gods? How would they contain the guardians?

They exchanged a few more blows. Perseus’ movements were flawless, reminding Artemis of how they used to spar together to train, but he was also ruthless. He’d never strike with such cheap blows against her - always honourable. He’d once said that to fight without honour was to fall to the level of those he hated, and now, their enemy was forcing him to do just that. He flung her own hair back around her, kicked dirt up into her face, physically pulled her closer by the hand - every trick she’d ever heard of to get her off balance.

Suddenly, he smirked. “I have just felt Galene’s spirit fade to nothingness...by Hermes’ own hand, no less. I didn’t believe that he could bring himself to do it.” 

Artemis’ face paled and she growled lowly before attacking him with new vigour, though she could not bring herself to go for killing blows. Perseus laughed at her weakness. It was obvious that he was just toying with her, and they both knew it. As the leader of the guardians, he was the most powerful and skilled of them, and he had the advantage, as she was emotionally distracted and reserved from the fight, whereas he had no qualms and no distractions. Artemis’ movements switched to autopilot as she became lost in her own head, wondering how it could have come to this, and if things would ever be the same. 

She threw her head to the side, cursing herself for ever summoning him in the first place. “Why didn’t we just believe Percy when we had the chance to save him? I will be the one responsible for the downfall of the gods...”


	14. Success?

***Third Person Point of View***

The air was rigid around Hermes wrapping him in the looming shadow of guilt. Each breath he took grew shallower as it settled in his lungs like wet cement, imbued with the burning spark of horror as he realized the truth. Galene still looked up at him, still gazed lovingly at her charge with a bright trust shining in her lifeless eyes. She’d been everything to him. She had sworn her life to him, to guide him and care for him, and yet, it was his sword that struck her down. 

_ How could he? _

How, after all the gods had been through with their guardians, could he have ever thought that she would turn her back on him? Their relationship had been more than that, more than protector and charge, more than friends - even more intimate than lovers. It was a bond that he couldn’t possibly put into words, and yet he still tried, trying to search the deep recesses of his mind for some flaw to exploit and give reason to his betrayal of her.

He looked up, surprised, because as his world ended, for everyone else, it was still spinning. The battle had not ceased to allow for his epiphany. There was no pause in the bloody slaughter of demigods. In fact, the field had become a warzone permeated by the metallic stench of blood; Hermes could feel it sinking into his pores. He saw the blades of grass running red and gold, horrifically mimicking the weaponry ripping through flesh above them. As his eyes roamed, Hermes could see a secondary landscape superimposed over the battle. The fields of Asphodel haunted him, ghouls roaming aimlessly amidst the brutality, lost to the world.

Hermes blinked, and it vanished.

Instead, he saw Ares trying his best to fend off both of the remaining guardians at once. His weapon was a blur of motion next to theirs, only pausing to impact with a harsh clang of metal on metal. What surprised the messenger god most was that they had  _ Ares  _ on the defensive. Eulalia, Ares’ own guardian, and Hades’ guardian Berenike were some of the greatest warriors Hermes had ever witnessed - though they were nowhere close to Percy’s skill - and with that skill, they were pushing Ares back a few steps.

As two of the longest-standing guardians, it was logical that they’d be some of the best fighters, especially when minding gods with such important domains.

While Ares was distracting them, Hades emerged from the shadows alongside his son (Hermes doubted that Nico’s boyfriend would approve of him shadow-travelling). Both Hades and his boy wielded their Stygian Iron swords, ready to strike Eulalia down from behind - unethical as it was - but Berenike seemed to have anticipated the move. Her sword blocked both of their swings, sending their blades askew.

Berenike spun, launching a seamless counter-attack on the god of the Underworld. Hades stumbled but caught her attack, whereas Nico was thrown entirely out of the skirmish. By the time the demigod rose to his feet, the guardians had already sectioned the gods away from the rest of the battle, leaving monsters to fill their wake.

Hades and Ares pressed back to back as their former guardians closed in. Berenike swung, and Hades braced himself, but then she froze. He glanced over his shoulder to see that Ares’ opponent was in a similar state.

Both guardians adopted a blank expression, weapons by their sides before their lips curled into identically horrendous smiles. Hades’ gaze did not leave Berenike as her eyes rolled back in her head, only to be replaced by endless darkness. It dripped out from behind her eyelids in a viscous sludge-trail of tears, even catching in her teeth as she grinned unnaturally. The sound that came next sent chills, even down the ghoulish god’s spine.

“Poor godlings,” the voice crooned. It came from both of their mouths at once, oily and sinister. “One of your own fights Perseus as we speak, and I fear her strength is waning. The gods will lose this war.” Both guardians’ heads rolled and their hands came together in mocking applause, the grin still unchanged on their faces. “A valiant effort, to be sure, but I’m afraid it just wasn’t enough. You will never-!”

The speech was cut short as Ares jabbed his broadsword through Eulalia’s chest. It broke clean through her back and she dropped, a look of surprise on her face.

“I don’t know who you are, but that girl has grown on me. I won’t let you use her like that.” Ares’ voice was thick and gruff, coming out as more of a growl than actual words.

Hades similarly took advantage of the moment of chaos, using it to stab his own guardian, albeit with a stiff arm, having to force himself.

On the ground, both guardians let out a simultaneous laugh, both choking on their own blood. “You think you will win this fight? Yes! You  _ will _ win! And you will be consumed! There is no way to stop me! Because even as you win, your precious moon goddess will lose! Watch and be crushed as she fades from this world!” Before the two guardians took their last breaths, they laughed again - crazy, maniacal laughter that stung the gods’ souls.

A screen of shadows appeared to show Artemis locked in combat with Perseus, just as the guardians had said.

Artemis grabbed Percy’s arm mid-swing, attempting once again to teleport, this time focused on bringing him with her. They appeared deeper in the forest, but it seemed that as soon as they landed, the ground fell out from beneath her feet. The world around them twisted, and Artemis almost stumbled as they suddenly appeared at Camp Half-Blood, right in the middle of a battle.

Monsters and demigods alike froze to see the moon goddess and her guardian resume their dance of danger. Like the world had stopped, not a single witness dared to draw breath. The battlefield parted. Monsters loomed to one side, intense eyes gleaming and lusting for blood to be spilled, while the demigods just hoped for an end.

Then, Artemis lunged. Her hunting knives flashed against Percy’s sword, each swing begging to exploit an opening. Percy played defence, blocking and parrying her away. With ease, he misdirected her blades and threw her off-balance, waiting for her to tire.

With all focus on the two of them fighting, no one noticed the tall figure haunting the battle from the hill. It was silent as death, not even rustling the grass upon which it stood. The dark cloak swayed in liquid form, moving aside to reveal a deadly black crescent, accented by a silver cord. 

The figure drew a single black arrow from the quiver over its shoulder and the grass around its feet wilted. Flowers shrivelled and died. Even the tree nearby keeled over slightly, leaves turning brown. Still, no one noticed, not until the figure notched the arrow and drew it back to its cheek. Its bony fingers perfectly lined up against its shadowed jaw, and it shook its head only once, to free the white-feathered fletching from the fabric of its hood. It was ready to fire; the only thing left was to wait for the right moment.

Artemis slid out of the way of one of Percy’s counterstrikes, her back turned on the hill. The archer took his chance.

The arrow streaked through the air, a missile hurtling toward the goddess of the moon. Unaware of her impending doom, Artemis continued exchanging blows with Percy. She wasn’t surprised by his skill, nor by his strategy. It was obvious that he didn’t have an end goal; either she killed him or he killed her. Either way, the Great One got his way. If she died, the gods would kill Percy in retribution anyway, and with all of the other guardians gone, Percy’s death would bring the Great One to their world. With that in mind, she expected him to try and wear her down.

What she didn’t expect was when he tackled her to the ground.

No one expected that, actually. The sudden change in tactic had all of the surrounding gods rush forward, only to freeze, not knowing what to do.

Artemis, definitely, was stunned by Percy’s bold choice. Now, lying in the grass, she had blood in her hair and Percy’s dead weight on her body, pinning her down and yet...not pinning her down? Looking down at him she could see his cheek pressed into the dirt next to her, arms limply wrapped around her waist. He wasn’t moving. Why wasn’t he moving?

She pushed him up and off, and she managed to roll him to one side before she saw the arrow. It was buried just under his left rib; the shaft was coated in green-tinged blood.

“Perseus!” Artemis was immediately up, shifting them around. The next moment, he was in her lap, facing the sky. The arrow stood as a monument from his chest, glowing slightly. Her eyes widened as she saw it.

“The Immortal Killer…” she muttered, horrified.

“I’m...glad y...you’re safe…”

Straying from the arrow, Artemis looked directly into Percy’s eyes, seeing that the darkness had dissipated. Only soft sea-green stared up at her.

“You’re back…” she whispered. Suddenly, she found herself gripping tightly to his hand - his real hand - feeling a coldness settling through his body. He coughed and blood coated his lips. “You’re really back…”


	15. "I bleed, sir; but not kill'd."

“Are you alright?”

Percy was shivering. Despite this, sweat beaded on his forehead. “I’ve been better. How about you? Are you hurt?”

“You’ve just been shot! Why are you asking me?” If he was in better condition, Artemis would’ve hit him for being so stupid. Perhaps a blow to the head would’ve set it on straight.

“I almost killed you,” Percy protested in a faint, scratchy voice. “He almost made me kill you.”

She choked back a sob. “You wouldn’t have let that happen. I know you.”

Around them, the campers were closing in slowly. The fight was over; the gods left the monsters in dust while Percy and Artemis had been fighting. Now, in the aftermath of the death and destruction, they needed yet another tragedy to play out before their eyes; curiosity spared no one. 

They weren’t disappointed. Percy lay, dying in Artemis’ arms. Why? The confusion that was running through them all was dizzying. Why would Artemis be cradling Percy after everything he’d done? After he betrayed her? Unless.

“The guardians never betrayed us.”

That was Hermes. He passed through the crowd to the front, tears staining his cheeks and monster dust clinging to his winged Reeboks.

“They were being controlled. Isn’t that right, Percy?” he asked.

Percy clenched his eyes shut in a long blink, trying to clear the dozens of spots tangoing in front of him. “Yeah…” His voice was getting weaker. “He was planning this all along. We were just his pawns-” He cut off into a spasm of coughs, coaxing more blood to trickle out from his chest wound. Bloody drool dribbled from the corner of his mouth.

Apollo rushed forward, finally breaking the static atmosphere. He pressed his hands to the wound as two of his sons appeared shortly after with bandages, gauze, and a bowl of hot water. Percy pawed at Apollo’s hands.

“Stop… I’m already dead. There’s nothing you can do…” He turned his head to meet Artemis’ eyes again and blinked a few times. He took a few wet breaths before he spoke again. “I need...to tell you.” His eyes shifted to Hermes. “He wanted you to kill your guardians. If we...we die by the hand of those we swore to protect, it gives him power.”

“And then he can come here?” Artemis asked.

Percy nodded. “He will come to earth...with them all. Hundreds of soldiers at his disposal…”

“How do we stop him?” Hermes pressed, clenching his fists until his knuckles turned white. Righteous fury was thudding through his veins. “There  _ must  _ be a way.”

Percy coughed again, spitting up more blood. With a slow, shaky hand, he raised one finger. “One way…”

Apollo worked faster at cleaning Percy’s wound, his hands steady and slow as he extracted the arrow. One of his sons dabbed at the wound while the other maintained a constant pressure.

“There’s some internal bleeding,” Apollo informed his sister. “Obviously. But...I’m not sure how much we can do.”

“It’s alright…” Percy said. “I will last long enough…”

“ _ Long enough _ ? What’s that supposed to mean? What are you planning to do, Percy?” Artemis asked half scolding, half worried.

“I must say his name.”

“His name?”

“His true name. Someone...must say his true name in his presence...”

“Why does it have to be you? You have to save your strength! Let me stop him! Tell me his name.”

Percy only smiled sadly. “I can’t...tell you;  _ you _ ...can’t be the one to say it, Artemis.”

“Why not?” Artemis’s eyes were wet.

“It would...bond your soul to his. You would be trapped in darkness forever.” He took a deep breath, which sounded more like he was gargling nails. “It must be me… I was the one to cast the spell...so I must finish...” he trailed off, eyes swaying in their sockets.

Artemis shook their connected hands slightly to bring him back. “Why do you have to be so self-sacrificing?” she demanded. Yet again, she felt the distinct urge to slap him, but he was still dying, so she refrained. “He’s not even here for you to say it to him,” she whispered, hoping that he would see sense.

Percy closed his eyes and took another breath, gargling another clump of nails. Apollo pressed a flask of Nectar to his lips. The wound glowed slightly and seemed to close up, only to split open like a ripe tomato. Percy gasped, eyes clenched shut.

“It’s no use…” He opened his eyes. “He is coming. I can feel it.” His prosthetic fingers curled together and his entire hand glowed with dark energy. “He’s doesn’t suspect a thing…”

Moments later, there was a sucking noise, and a vortex opened. Then, there he was, in his full glory.

He stood ten feet tall, with dark hair threaded into slim braids. Blue and purple veins crept prominently along under his translucent skin, as vivid as fresh tattoos. He smirked, showing off perfect teeth. They were the only perfect thing about him.

“Foolish gods. You’ve played right into my hands! With the last of the guardians dead by your hand, my army is free to invade and conquer this planet. Soon, it will be mine to rule.”

The corners of Percy’s mouth lifted into his trademark grin. “That’s what you think,” he said, his voice still rough. It was just loud enough for the Great One to hear, but only because everyone else had fallen silent, even the animals in the forest.

“I did not say you could speak, boy!” the Great One spat. Then, he froze. “Wait a minute...:” He stalked toward Percy, who was still in Artemis’ arms. Hermes, Apollo, and Apollo’s children moved aside stiffly, like robots. He knelt, grabbing Percy’s face in one clawed hand. Artemis didn’t move - she  _ couldn’t _ move.

The Great One snarled. “I no longer feel your mind; you are free from my grasp.” He let go of Percy’s chin with a flourish, leaving thin bloody marks down the boy’s cheeks. He laughed. “No matter. There is nothing you can do to stop me.” He strode away easily, gazing out at the world that he would soon rule.

“On the contrary,” Percy began, “I have found your weakness. Pulling his hand from Artemis, he pushed her away from him as he struggled to stand. With a single rebellious hiss escaping the iron gates of his lips, he managed to stand on both feet without help. His chest wound - healed, opened, re-healed, and re-opened - bled sluggishly.

The Great One narrowed his eyes. A tick at the corner of his mouth was the only clue to his inner panic. “You know no such thing! I have no weaknesses, much less one  _ you _ could exploit. You are a  _ bug _ to me!”

“Names are funny things, aren’t they?” Percy asked suddenly. He swayed. His grin returned, more sinister than the last. “You should be more careful about what you say.” Raising his prosthetic hand, Percy began to chant. The black glow returned, a fine mist that swirling around in the air, covering everything.

“No! How could  _ you _ have done this? You are  _ weak _ !”

“You will  _ not _ disgrace this planet with your presence any longer,  _ Iago _ ,” Percy hissed. The moment he said the Great One’s true name, his eyes flashed. Iago’s whole body began to steam and dissolve. Percy’s did the same.

“No! Percy!” Artemis screamed, reaching for her (former) guardian, but a barrier stopped her from contact. Percy and Iago were now trapped in a vortex all their own, their bodies slowly colliding in a swarm of their own dissolved flesh. 

Iago’s scream was loud. It was the scream of someone on death row, perhaps of one bathing in acid. Underneath the pain, though, there was rage. He lunged for Percy. That, perhaps, was not the best idea, though, because as soon as he reached his former soldier, they became one.

With a bright flash and a loud bang, they were gone, no trace left aside from Percy’s limp prosthetics lying in the scorched grass.

Everything was silent. Not even the wind dared to blow. When it did, Artemis heard something else. A soft voice, one filled with love and so quiet that she could’ve been imagining it: “I love you…” 

“Percy?” she asked.

Then, it faded away.

Artemis fell to her knees, her body wracked with sobs. “No!” Her voice broke from the sheer emotion in her scream, and immediately, Apollo was at her side. She collapsed against his chest, gripping tightly to the front of his shirt. “No…” She sobbed until her eyes ran dry. Finally, she looked up.

“Is it over?” she asked.

Apollo nodded. “It’s over.” He’d been running his hand in circles along her back the whole time, not caring about the blood on either of them, only knowing that he had to comfort his twin. “We’re okay,” he continued. “We’re okay. Percy saved us. Again.”

“Why?” Her voice was weak.

“Because he is a hero.”


	16. Gone Forever...?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here is the final chapter of this trilogy. Dylan and I hope you enjoyed it!  
> ~CSP2708~

***First Person Point of View ~ Artemis***

The world was dark without him. Melodramatic, I know, but it was true. When Percy was around, he would have...a spark, I guess. Something special about him that brought a smile to the faces of everyone around him. Moods lifted at his every word, kind and generous as always. Now, without him, the campfires were always low and dark. No one would joke around anymore, just shuffle around like robots to fix the damages to the camps.

I couldn’t judge them, though; I was no better. I’d been standing in the surf at Camp Half-Blood’s beach for days - fifteen days to be exact because that was how long Percy had been missing. The sea seemed endless in front of me like it could swallow all of my sorrows and never be satisfied. 

Was this how Poseidon felt all the time, looking out at his domain? I hadn’t seen him since Percy’s disappearance, which was normal, since I hadn’t seen much of anyone since then, but I could tell exactly how he was feeling from the sea. It was grey and calm, but not calm in the sense that he was at ease. It was the type of calm that came alone to a funeral, not invited but always there, drowning the atmosphere in sadness without anguish. I could feel him creeping up on me next, a black umbrella blocking the sun’s hope from reaching my soul, cold hands twisting around my neck.

I reached up, but there was nothing there, even though the chill lingered.

I looked down. My feet were bare; I’d taken off my boots at the top of the hill and left them there. My toes were slowly sinking into the sand with each new wave, rising and retreating, just like the memories that wouldn’t leave me alone.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face, dying. I’d only ever see him dying, but never dead. It was a blessing, in a way, but also a curse, because I knew that he would never die. No. Instead, he was trapped forever in the darkness with The Great One -  _ Iago _ . How I  _ loathed _ that monster. Because of him, Percy would never find peace. For eternity, he would have to endure anguish in the Voyd - the dark space beyond death where Percy was. No one was sure what to call it, or if it even existed, but that’s what the campers had taken to calling it - from what I’ve heard, anyway.

It didn’t matter. There was no coming back from it, not like the other guardians. It was strange. Shortly after Percy and Iago vanished, Hades got a report of several dozen new souls appearing in the Underworld. Now, normally, it wouldn’t be all that weird, but these souls hadn’t crossed the River Styx or anything - Charon was a bit peeved by that. They’d just folded into existence, all heroes of old who’d never...died, but vanished. Alongside them were the guardians we’d just killed, un-brainwashed and overcome with remorse.

I didn’t get the full story because I left before anything more was said, but I could infer easily enough what happened. In the past, when they’d died, they were chosen to become guardians. After training for centuries with no knowing whether they’d be summoned or not, they were all suddenly given their afterlife back, all because Percy had banished Iago - along with himself - to the Voyd.

That just made Percy’s sacrifice all the more heroic, and I hated it as much as I loved it because that meant that I couldn’t channel my anger towards the universe for taking him away. In fact...if he hadn’t done what he did, I probably wouldn’t even be around to be angry at the universe.

The worst part was that we could never repay him for his noble deed. His only thanks would be pain and misery for eternity with the monster he hated. I...I would much rather that he be safe and happy with his comrades in the afterlife - in Elysium where he belonged - but the Fates weren’t fair when handing him his destiny. There was nothing I could do.

Then again, that wasn’t true. I could still hold on to hope. We could never be sure that the Voyd was for eternity; Percy had pulled off the impossible before. Maybe, one day, I’d be able to tell him the one thing I’d missed the chance to say. Our bond ran deeper than any other I’d ever had - something beyond words, and I’d never told him, never expressed myself to him. I guess...until such a time as he miraculously returned to us, I would just have to live with the ache.

Regret slithered around under my ribcage, curling up like a lead pipe. I had a keen feeling that it would be weighing me down for years to come.

I squished some wet sand between my toes, hoping to distract myself. It did nothing. My feet were maybe three inches under now, which came from two weeks of standing stationary on the beach as the tides shifted granules around. No human would do what I was doing - their feet would be raisins by the end of day one.

A few campers shouted in the distance, catching my interest. What were they doing? Going to dinner? After a deep breath, I let every bit of air drain out of my lungs. Who could eat? As a goddess, I didn’t  _ have _ to eat - not really - but it was better than letting myself waste away. The camper’s voices faded as they made their way to the dining pavilion. Maybe I should follow their example.

“My lady!”

That shout stopped me. It was Thalia.

“My lady!” She ran down the hill. “Mind if I join you?” I didn’t have to look back to know that she’d stopped just short of the wet sand.

“You’re already here. Why not?” I replied, keeping my eyes on the rippling waves. 

There was a rustling. She was taking off her boots and socks too, no doubt.

“The ocean looks sad,” she said, voice a little closer, but still too far away. I heard no splashing, so she must’ve stopped short of the deep water. Another wave came in, rushing over our feet. Thalia hissed. Maybe the water was cold - I couldn’t tell.

“I guess so,” I replied. It  _ did _ look sad. Of course it did. Poseidon had just lost his son. Again. While the others were back, Percy remained unseen - a fact which only cemented the reality that he was imprisoned in purgatory.

“You missed everything that’s been going on.”

“I guess so,” I repeated. After a brief pause, I tilted my head toward her, though I didn’t turn it all the way. “Perhaps you could fill me in?”

Thalia was silent for a moment. “The guardians that returned spoke of Percy...I think.”

“You think?”

“They said that they were training, like always, when suddenly a man appeared in front of them. He was haloed in light, like a god in pure form.”

“You said they saw Percy. Why are you being so vague?”

I could hear Thalia shifting from foot to foot from the shifting of the sand. “Well...they didn’t  _ exactly _ see Percy. They all saw a different person when they looked at him.”

“But…?” I prompted. I still didn’t turn; my feet remained planted as yet another wave caressed my ankles.

“But every description had  _ something _ like Percy. It’s weird - everyone thinks so. Something must’ve happened to him when he bonded his soul to Iago’s. He’s beyond immortality.”

“I see.”

“I know it’s a lot to process, but I’m sure we’ll know. One day.” There were a few splashes, then swishing, and I knew that she was wading deeper. “Do you wish you could’ve told him?” Her voice was right behind me now.

I nodded. His face flashed in my mind’s eye, smiling his infamous lopsided smirk. I blinked, trying to fight back the tears that gathered in my eyes as my heart broke just a little. “Yes,” I said, choking on the word. “I wish I could’ve, but it’s too late now. You know that.”

A hand suddenly appeared on my shoulder, so suddenly that if I hadn’t known Thalia was standing directly behind me, I would’ve jumped out of my skin. Nonetheless, my hand rose to join hers.

“Don’t worry,” she said, squeezing my shoulder for comfort. “He knows.”

“I hope so,” I replied. My gaze fell upon the sea once more, and I watched a few more waves roll in before I spoke again. “Are the hunters ready to leave?”

“Yep. We’re all packed and ready for our next adventure. I think some of them are extra relieved to be leaving camp.”

“Is that so?” I chuckled.

“Yeah. They don’t like being here, now more than ever. I think they miss Percy, too,” Thalia admitted. “He was like a brother to all of us, and...now that he’s gone, I think everyone is realizing just how much. This place is just a reminder that he’s gone and he’s never coming back.”

“Don’t say never,” I said sharply. “He could still return.”

Thalia laughed, but instead of it being a happy one, it was jeering and hopeless. “I envy you, my lady...for being able to hold on to that hope.” She sighed. “I will try to do the same.”

“Thank you, Thalia. Let’s go.”

One last glance at the ocean revealed a single sparkle to me, shining in the otherwise dull waves as if winking. My head told me that it was probably Poseidon, acknowledging our shared sorrow, but in my heart, I wished that it was Percy, somehow reaching out to me from the other side.


End file.
